She's Back
by Forever the Optimist
Summary: Something inexplicable has happened to time, throwing the Doctor and Clara onto a hostile planet with no idea what's going on. An old foe has arisen, a danger unlike any they've faced before. The pair will need to join forces with a nearly-forgotten friend, and travel through the depths of the past to come full circle and find both the beginning and the end of an age-old Mystery.
1. Prologue: The Mysterious Madame

"No, listen, that's what I'm telling you, it was _horrifying!"_ the alien insisted, pounding the wooden bar with one scaly fist. "As soon as I flew overhead, the entire city was screaming. Every single one, because of _me!"_

His friend crossed three of his tentacles, decidedly unimpressed. "Screaming, huh? That's it?"

"No, you're not hearing me, Grorax. I told you, I had a _Chula warship_. I burned that entire city." He leaned back in his chair, satisfied. "Teach them to talk about my mum like that."

"Blimey." Grorax flared his gills. "That's not bad. Reckon it'll be enough?"

"For a ticket onto Harmony and Redemption? All they need is a couple murders, much less a city." He glanced around the few other inhabitants of dingy bar, then lowered his voice, whispering conspiratorially to his friend. "I figure this way, I might be able to get a discount."

"You think? Ticket's what, a million credits? Winston, you know you don't have that kind of money."

"A billion," Winston corrected him. "But what's a billion credits, eh? Once they've had a wander through those remains, I'll be able to grab all sorts of loot. And until then-" He picked up his glass and drained the grey sludge inside. "-celebration!" He slammed the drink back on the bar. "Another, on the rocks. And grind the rocks better this time, they're wearing down my teeth."

The waitress shuffled off, and Grorax turned back to his friend. "So what'll you do with it? The ticket, I mean."

"Who knows?" Winston shrugged, muscled shoulders rippling, scales reflecting what little light there was in the room. "That's not the point, you know? Once you're there, you've made it. Who turns you down when you can say you've traveled galaxies on the Harmony? No more stowing away, no more taxis." His eyes flashed, imagining it.

"Yeah." Grorax sipped his drink, then eyed his friend. "You can bring plus-ones, right?"

"Yeah, I think so. Maybe." Suddenly avoiding his gaze, Winston glared down the bar. "Where's the drink?"

"Right here," the waitress said with a huff, sliding him another glass. "Mercurian whiskey on the rocks, ground up fine as you please."

"'Bout bloody time," he muttered, grabbing it and taking a swig. Then, to Grorax's embarrassment, he spat it back out on the bar. "You call that ground?"

The waitress lifted her chins defiantly. "Yes," she told him. "We've won awards."

"Hah. This place? Not likely." The woman's face darkened. "Grind it again."

"That's perfectly good quality," she insisted. "Nothing wrong - hey!"

Winston had reached forward and grabbed her wrist, hard. "If I say grind it again, you grind it again, hear me?" he growled.

"Let go of me," she hissed. With a sneer, Winston flexed his hand. Sharp, curved claws slid out of each fingertip, piercing her skin.

"What're you gonna do, spit on me? Who's going to make me let go, eh?" he called, looking around the bar. "Yeah, that's right. Nobody."

"Winston, I really wouldn't do that," Grorax told him, voice quiet but urgent. "Madame Miss is here."

Winston's browridges flew up, and he released the waitress's arm. She glared at him and stalked to the other end of the bar, rubbing her wrist. "Madame Miss?" he whispered. "Where?"

Discretely, Grorax pointed on tentacle towards the back corner. A small figure sat at a table, back to the wall. She wore a heavy black cloak, with a cowl large enough to hide her face completely. Indeed, her figure was so obscured it was difficult to tell that this mysterious stranger was, in fact, female. Under her table was a large sack, containing something square. Winston glanced behind him, then back at his friend. "You're kidding. That's her?"

"I'm almost sure. Wins, she's ruined planets, destroyed entire _civilizations._ I don't think one city would impress her much."

"No way." Winston's laugh was part cackle, part growl. "She's way too tiny for a reputation that big." He had a point - this strange woman couldn't reach five feet. "If I breathed on her too hard, I'd squash her. She's just-"

 _Zap!_ He jerked back as a bolt of deadly light flew right in front of his face, singeing his nose. He froze, hardly daring to look around. Out of the very corner of his slanted eyes, he saw that same stranger holding a ray gun in one small, dark hand.

"She can hear you," the figure said quietly, dangerously. "And she'll thank you not to go about mocking her. Or manhandling the staff." The ray gun slipped back into the folds of the cloak. "I am the Madame. And I hit exactly where I mean to. Next time, you'll have more than a few scorched scales."

Eyes wide, Winston nodded. He stayed stock-still as she gathered her odd parcel and swept out of the bar. When at last the door swung shut behind her, he leaned toward his friend. "Rax, who is she really? What does she want?"

Grorax could only shrug. "No clue, really. She just appeared one day, remember? Out of nowhere, with that ship like nobody'd ever seen. Wasn't anybody going to get in her way."

"What is she, a human?"

"I don't think so." Grorax snuck a look over one shoulder. "She's not right, that's for sure. She just doesn't fit. They say she'll do anything because she hasn't got anyone left to love." He took a long drink, wiping the foam with a tentacle. "I'd feel bad for her if she didn't scare me to death."

"I thought she'd disappeared though," Winston said, rubbing his sore nose gingerly. "Turned into legend. How'd she turn up in some grimy bar at the edge of the galaxy?"

Again, Grorax shrugged. "How does anyone turn up here? Especially someone like her."

"But she's here," Winston repeated, "she's shown up again. Remember what happened last time?"

Both collectively shuddered. Winston raised his glass. "To Madame Miss, then," he said, with a smile that showed his teeth. "May she stay gone."

"Bit late for that," Grorax muttered, but he lifted his drink. After they'd both sipped, he slipped off his stool, leaving a trail of slime behind. "I'd better be going. Same time next week?"

"Course. Say hi to the wife and guppies for me." Winston waved as his friend made his way out of the dingy bar, then stared darkly into his glass. "Gods help us all. She's back."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hello and welcome, all, to the third and final (probably) installment of the Mystery Girl series! Consider this chapter a prologue, if you like. I'm incredibly excited for this story - the outline is 14 pages long - and I really do think you all are going to like it. If you haven't read the first two stories (Mystery Girl and One Moment) I highly recommend you check them out first, as there are a lot of things that will make much more sense. Also, if it wasn't clear (and I hope it was), this story will feature the 12th Doctor instead of the 11th as in previous stories. This will be the first time I've written for him, and I am enjoying it very much. I can't wait for you all to see it!**

 **If you've enjoyed what you've read so far, do please leave a review, and make sure to follow this story to stay updated! Thank you all so much!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**

 **P.S: I am terribly amused by the thought of this massive, buff lizard alien being named Winston. Welcome to my sense of humor.**


	2. An Unexpected Arrival

Clara doubled over, her laughter filling the TARDIS. "And then those ghost things, I told you they couldn't be real!"

"Two ghosts in a row, it could happen," the Doctor observed. He smiled contentedly. Clara Oswald and the Doctor in the TARDIS, just like it should be.

"Oh, you were so scared," she giggled. "When that holographic hippo showed up behind you? Mind you, I'd no idea they could be so fierce."

He raised one grey eyebrow. "I find the unexpected things to be most dangerous."

"Good thing you've got me, then." She smirked, then flopped back against the console. "I'm starving, are you starving? Let's go eat."

"Now, there's an idea." The Doctor reached around her and pressed down a lever. "I know a great restaurant at the end of the universe. One end, anyway. Never could remember which-"

His sentence was cut off as the TARDIS suddenly lurched to the side, throwing them against the console. Clara's head whipped up. "What happened?"

"We've landed." The Doctor was already scrambling for the controls, brows furrowed in confusion. "Look, right here, we've landed."

Clara stared. "Doctor, we were in the middle of space, how have we landed?"

"Not were," he corrected her, "are. We haven't moved." He dashed over to the doors, coat tails flying out behind him, and threw them open. Outside was a barren, scrub wasteland, with no civilization of any kind in sight. "Clearly not deep space."

"So, what, then, did we just run into a planet?" Clara asked in frustration, peering over his shoulder. But the Doctor was shaking his head.

"This planet wasn't here a few seconds ago," he told her. "This planet hasn't been here for centuries."

"You know what it is, then?"

"I've heard of it. Never been." Something in his jaw tightened. "Never wanted to come."

Clara propped her hands on her hips. "You're being dramatic. Stop it. Where are we?"

"The middle of Nowhere," the Doctor answered. "At the crossroads of Coincidence and Potential." He stared out for a moment more, then shut the door firmly.

"Again with the drama!" Giving him up, she went to the console. Maybe the TARDIS would cooperate enough to tell her where they'd actually landed.

"No, that's the name," he insisted. "This entire planet is called Nowhere."

"Nowhere," she repeated slowly. "Right. Okay. And what lives on it? Nothing?"

The Doctor chuckled. "Wouldn't that be nice. No, this planet is full of Possibilities. Yes, that's really their name," he added at Clara's look.

"So what are they, then?" she asked. "Aliens?"

"Gallifreyans. At least, they used to be." Ignoring her shock, the Doctor went to the console, typing in commands.

"Used to be? You mean…" Her eyes widened. "This isn't Gallifrey, is it?"

"Course not. Gallifrey's much nicer than this dump. No, they left Gallifrey when the Time Lords rose to power. We chose science as the way forward, they clung to their magic. Time Lords got their power from exposure to the Matrix," he explained. "The Possibilities just evolved differently."

"So Gallifreyans used to rely on magic all the time?" Clara was clearly fascinated. "Why did you stop?"

The Doctor only shrugged. "That was long before I was ever around. I don't know. Lots of reasons. But there was a massive power struggle, and the Time Lords drove these fellows out."

"And they moved here," she said, confirming. "Changed their name, started their own lives."

"So I heard. I'd hoped not to have to find out." He paused in his typing for a moment, then shook his head, stepping around Clara to reach another panel. "They fought against us in the Time War. I thought the planet was destroyed in the last days, before I… How can it be here?"

"Maybe you… misplaced it?" she suggested. "Space is pretty big."

The Doctor glanced at her, mildly incredulous. "Space is big, that's all you have to say about a planet appearing out of nowhere? Good thing you teach English."

"They were hiding, then," she offered then. "Or maybe we've landed before the Time War."

"Clara, I don't think you understand," he said finally. "That entire space-time event was timelocked. _Nothing_ gets out of there, not one person, not a TARDIS, and certainly not a whole planet. Besides," he added, a little more unsure, "we haven't traveled in time. I can feel it. But something's definitely gone wrong."

"Magic." She followed him around, determined to get answers. "These Possibilities, or whatever, you said they've got magic."

"Not that kind," came the terse reply. "Not to escape."

"What, then?" she demanded. The Doctor ignored her, his focus back on the TARDIS. "Oh, go on, then." She bumped his arm with her shoulder, grinning. "You know you're just dying to explain."

"Well, there's two types," he began, to Clara's delight. "Meanwhiles and Neverweres. The differences are physical, yes, but mostly lie in ability. The Meanwhiles are the men, I guess you'd say. They add time."

"Add time," Clara repeated, turning that over in her mind. "What do you mean?"

"Well, more like they stop time for everyone but themselves," he clarified. "Then, while it's stopped, they can dash about and do whatever they like. It's a short time, though."

"That's… really impressive, actually." The Doctor could see her mind spinning as she worked through the implications. "So, hang on." She paused, finger in the air. "They could be outside right now?"

"Yep. Pity I haven't got a window, isn't it?" he said with a hint of a grin. "I used to have one. Wonder where I put it. Maybe they're all on the outside now."

"Doctor…" Her tone clearly signaled she was reaching the edge of her patience.

"Yes, right." With a few buttons, the Doctor turned on the monitors, showing only an empty wasteland outside. "There, see? All by ourselves."

"For now, at least." Clara thought for a moment. "Then, if you fought them in the Time War, they'd recognize your TARDIS, right? Why haven't they inserted a bit of time where they come in and kill us or something?"

"We're safe in here," he told her, patting the console fondly. "The TARDIS exists outside of time and space. Time can't be manipulated in here unless she does it herself."

"Right. Good." Clara was visibly relieved. "What about the other ones? The Never-things? They can't be as bad as that, can they?"

"Actually, I'd say they're worse."

"You would think that," Clara said, comfortably amused. "They're the women, aren't they?"

He mock-glared at her. "The Neverweres implant false memories. They're intensely telepathic, but only in one direction: they can't receive anything from you."

"So they can't read your mind, but they can play around in it." Clara nodded. "Nice. There better be limits."

"Their powers work the best on things you remember a lot anyway," he explained. "Anything humiliating, embarrassing. The things that pop into your head at the worst possible moment. Also on the happiest moments of your life," he added with a shrug, "but they don't ever use that on anyone but each other."

"Each other?"

"It's the ultimate compliment," the Doctor informed her. "Sharing your best memories."

Clara considered this. "I can see it."

"Of course, that also means they're rubbish at the bad things," he added, going back to the TARDIS controls. "Those memories of pain, loss, terror. The things you don't want to think about, the things you're constantly pushing away. You're resistant, you're used to shoving those memories out of your mind, so it's a lot harder for the Neverweres to get in. It'll work better on you, so watch out."

"What, why?" she asked, a little defensive. "Because I'm human, or-"

"Because you're not me." He turned to look at her, wrinkled face serious. "You forget, Clara, I've had centuries to practice pushing away bad memories." Then, in an effort to be light, he added, "Basically it means they won't be able to get into my short-term memory like they will yours. No big deal." He went back to the controls.

Clara wasn't sure what to say to that, so she simply sat in silence, watching the Doctor pound at the controls with increasing frustration. A thought occurred to her suddenly, and she couldn't help but ask.

"So, if we do meet these things - which we're going to?" She hesitated, looking for some confirmation, but found nothing to confirm or deny. "Well, if we do: could I end up with a head full of memories that aren't real?"

"Maybe. So? Humans are full of fake memories, you just don't realise it. Remembering things that didn't happen, changing memories based on how you hear about things, making up memories to fill in blank spaces. Ever heard of the Silence?"

"The what?"

He smiled. "Exactly. Trust me, it's nothing new."

Clara started at him for a moment, but decided to let it go. "So they're bad, right? We don't want to be here."

"No, we really don't," the Doctor agreed. "If they were to gain access to this TARDIS…"

"So we should leave." She raised an eyebrow. "Just go."

"And not ever look back. You're right."

Crossing her arms, Clara leaned against the console. "Then why aren't we?"

"Well…" Throwing his coattails back, the Doctor crouched down to poke at the underside of the console with his screwdriver. "We can't."

She sighed. "Why am I not surprised?" She watched him work for a second, then bent over, her head hanging over the console edge. "Is this a 'we can't leave because the, I don't know, spiralizer's broken and you're curious' or is this real?"

"Real," he told her seriously, standing up. "Ever since I realized where we are, I've been trying, but the TARDIS can't take off, and- Hold on." One bushy eyebrow went up. "Spiralizer? Really?"

Clara blushed. "Shut up."

Shaking his head, the Doctor went back to the TARDIS, flipping a switch with the end of his sonic. "I just wish I knew _why._ There's some kind of interference-"

"Actually, Doctor," Clara interrupted, "I think I know." She slid one of the monitors around to where he was standing. Instead of the empty scrub of before, they appeared to be in the middle of an ornate hall. "The Meanwhiles?"

"I'm sure." He stared at the screen for a moment, then shoved it away.

"So now what?"

The Doctor turned around, straightening the lapels of his coat, suddenly grinning, the light of adventure in his eyes. "We've clearly been invited. Let's go meet our hosts."

* * *

 **A.N: And we have familiar characters! I'm excited. Twelve is proving to be a joy, and I can't imagine why I haven't done anything with him before. Loads of fun. And Clara is always a pleasure. For setting, I'm placing this mid-Series 9, right before The Zygon Invasion. It doesn't really matter, but I like to think of the parallels. You'll see what I mean.**

 **Also, I've invented an alien! An entire species, civilization, the works. I've never done that before, and I'm quite excited about it. For my particularly astute DW fans, the 10th Doctor mentioned "the Could-Have-Been King" and the "army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres," and that's all we ever heard. So. Now you know.**

 **I think once I post the next chapter (on Sunday, probably) I'll go and add a mini-chapter onto the first two so my followers from before stay updated on what's going on. Again, if you want to make sure you're around to see what's going on, make sure to follow the story, or even me as an author would be cool. And do please leave a review and tell me how I'm doing with 12!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**

 **P.S: If you've really been paying attention, you'll notice that in each of the three Mystery Girl stories, the first proper chapters have the same name.**


	3. Her Majesty, The King

The Doctor and Clara stepped out of the TARDIS into an opulent hall, clearly designed as a throne room. Clara had seen a few castles in her time, but this one put them all to shame. The floors and the six massive pillars around the edge of the room were built of a dark red marble streaked with white. Though there were no windows, the room was lit with clusters of floating golden lights, whirling softly just out of reach.

However, it was not all medieval opulence. Between each pillar was a different holographic projection. One showed a 3D map presumably laying out the terrain of the planet, another looked like a star chat with blinking lights in formations - possibly representing attacking forces? The Doctor's face stiffened at the sight of that one, confirming Clara's suspicions.

Perhaps the thing that caught their attention the most, however, was the legion of beings surrounding the TARDIS, apparently unarmed, but staring at the newcomers with palpably malevolent focus.

"Meanwhiles," the Doctor muttered. "They must have stopped time and moved us here. I didn't even feel it!"

"Why are they all so small?" Clara asked in a hushed whisper. Indeed, the tallest of the Possibilities was no taller than her, and most came up only to her shoulder. "I thought they were basically Gallifreyans?"

The Doctor shook his head. Clara could see his eyes flitting around the room, taking in any exits and planning for potential escape. "It's part of the evolution," he told her, pitching his voice low so it wouldn't carry across the room. "Because of their power, enemies hardly ever get close enough to do any real physical damage, so they just don't need the size."

Clara nodded, but the Doctor wasn't finished. "That's why you'll never see one alone," he added. "They fear solitude above all else."

"Strength in numbers," she observed.

"Yes," the Doctor conceded, "but more that they know the dangers of being alone."

"They're a bit cute, aren't they?" She couldn't help a small smile creeping across her face. The Doctor glanced at her, faintly disapproving.

"I really wouldn't let them hear you say that."

The pair fell silent as they caught sight of a hurried discussion breaking up towards the edge of the hall. Two nearly identical representatives, dressed in deep red over-the-shoulder capes, broke out of the cluster and strode up to the time travelers. Their steps clicked in sharp unison on the hard marble floor, the sound echoing around the room.

Clara clapped a hand over her mouth to hold in a gasp. The eyes of these aliens were not the typical humanoid ones she'd been expecting. Where normally were pupils, the Possibilities had dark, whirling vortexes, streaked with gold.

"It's the Untempered Schism," the Doctor hissed. "Or, something like it, anyway. Physical manifestation of their power. Best not to look too long," he added. "It tends to drive people mad."

About to ask another question, Clara closed her mouth abruptly as the two emissaries reached them and stopped in perfect unison.

"Travelers," one said, tone civil but frosty. "You have entered our hallowed spaces uninvited."

"You can be considered trespassing," the other added, tone equally as cold.

"This is against the laws of our people."

"You are not in accordance with intergalactic laws of planetary immigration."

"As such-"

"Oh, shut up," the Doctor interrupted, much to Clara's relief. Listening to the two Meanwhiles - for they did seem to be male - was a bit like a verbal tennis match. "I just need one of you, thanks. How about the good looking one?"

The two men looked at each other for a moment in confusion, then one stepped forward. "As such-"

"No, not you, the other one," the Doctor said impatiently. The abashed Meanwhile stepped back, leaving his slightly flattered partner to take up the conversation. "And I'll ask the questions, thanks. Very important visitor," he declared, whipping out the sonic paper and holding it out for all to see. "Be careful what you say. Don't make any sudden movements. And absolutely no winking on anyone's part. Now." He paused, glaring around the room. "What can anyone tell me about what's happened to time?"

"A brave question for one so far out of his place." The voice rang through the hall, crisp and cool, but with unmistakable authority. "Tell me, Doctor, how have you wandered so very far from home?"

The crowd parted respectfully to reveal a great black throne at the far end of the hall, built into the wall. It was woven of thick tendrils of opaque glass that twined together to form a chair, then stretched up the wall, snaking along and eventually burrowing into the marble walls. In the swirling light, the glass seemed to constantly be moving.

Clara sucked in a breath. "Wow. Beautiful."

"Anagonian glass," the Doctor informed her. "It's incredibly rare, made in the last seconds of the death of a star. All the remaining particles get superheated, and then-"

"Not the throne, _her."_

The woman who had spoken was reclining regally on the throne, deep red robes shimmering as much as the glass behind her. She wore a sleek, floor-length golden dress, with matching golden chains pulling back her long dark hair. She was beautiful, yes, but dangerous.

"Psychic paper," the Doctor muttered, folding up the billfold and sliding it back in his pocket. "Doesn't work on telepaths. I always forget."

"No, Doctor," the woman told him, "your paper works perfectly. It showed me exactly the identity I expected."

"You know who I am, then," the Doctor said, hands behind his back.

"I do," the woman said, voice level, "just as you know me." She turned her swirling gaze on Clara, who felt her breath catch in her throat. "Your… companion, however, I have not yet had the pleasure."

"Oh, of course! Your Majesty, Clara Oswald. Clara, may I present Her Royal Highness, King Clarys." He bowed with a flourish.

Clara, unsure, curtseyed slightly. "Sorry… King?"

"It's not an inherited title," the Doctor explained under his breath. "The most powerful Possibility leads. Much better than you English people. Humans assume things too much."

She glanced at him, then back at the King, who was watching them with amusement. "Okay. Love the dress, Your Majesty."

Clarys laughed softly, her eyes literally sparkling, then focused back on the Doctor. "You still haven't answered my question, Time Lord."

"No, I haven't," he agreed, "but I've got one for you first: if you really know who I am, why aren't I dead?"

"Do you believe you should be?" the King asked calmly. The Doctor's eyebrows went up.

"Ooh, loaded question. I bet most of these fellows-" he jumped around the room, running up to various members of the assembled crowd before dashing on to the next- "think I ought to be, but who cares what they think? It's you, Your Majesty," he said, stopping at the foot of her throne, "whose opinion actually matters. So tell me: why aren't I dead?"

The King considered him a moment, then stood up, surprising Clara: she was, for a Neverwere, surprisingly tall. Were they to stand next to each other, Clara guessed the King would have a few inches on her. "Doctor," she said, stepping off the dais and walking towards them, cape and train trailing behind her, "given my own way, I would like nothing better than to see you and all of your kind dead by my hand for what you have done to my people."

She stopped directly in front of him, the moment oddly intimate. "I would chop up your body and give the bits to my court as souvenirs and it would be deserved, and I would not feel guilty."

"Then why haven't you?" he asked softly, face hard and inscrutable. Clara got the uncomfortable feeling that he agreed with much of what the King had said.

The King held the suspense for a moment, then swirled away. "Business, Doctor. Purely good business. Come." She glanced over her shoulder, beckoning imperiously. "We have much to discuss."

* * *

 **A.N: Can I just say how much I'm enjoying the King? If you want a visual, picture Morgana of BBC's _Merlin,_ but more regal and less insane. Mostly. Anyway. Good fun. Thanks for the reviews, my dears. I really do appreciate them, particularly those of you who review every chapter. I always look forward to hearing from you!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	4. What She Can Do

"So she's a Neverwere, right?" Clara asked in a whisper as the King led them down a long, arched hallway. The way was dark, lit only by braziers of the same swirling light as the throne room. The King herself carried a torch of this light, but her prisoners - for they were under no illusions that they were anything but - were left to fend for themselves.

In the darkness, Clara couldn't help but notice that the end of the other woman's hair were tipped with the golden light as well. Swaying as she walked, the effect it had against her deep red cloak was mesmerizing.

"The strongest one they've got," the Doctor replied, snapping Clara back into the moment. "Discovered young, raised to lead and do whatever it takes. Totally ruthless. She beat the last king in combat in only seconds. Never laid a finger on her, but she drove her mad. Most of the universe calls her the Could-Have-Been King. That's what she's famous for," he explained. "She specializes in false memories of lost potentials. Anytime you've ever wondered, 'What if?' That's what she loves."

Clara was impressed. "That's horrible. And a bit genius."

"It is," the Doctor agreed. "Whenever they defeat someone, she fills the minds of the survivors with what might have been, had they won. Then, just when they begin to believe it, she rips it away and they see her standing over them, the conqueror in all her glory." His voice was tinged with admiration.

"How do we know she won't do the same to us, then?" she demanded. "Or that she hasn't already?"

"You don't," the King said levelly. Clara flushed and glanced at the Doctor in mild panic, but he only shrugged. "But you may have this promise," the King continued, stopping before a heavy black door. "My allies will always be safe from my powers or those of my people."

"Are we your allies?" the Doctor asked, seemingly with innocent curiosity. The King stared at him, swirling eyes capturing his focus and holding him tight.

"That, Doctor, is entirely up to you." Her eyes shifted, releasing the Doctor's mind, and she pushed open the door. "Come with me."

Rubbing his temples, the Doctor followed, but Clara grabbed his shoulder, holding him back. "What did she do to you?" she hissed. "I saw it, something with her eyes!"

"Pressure, that's all," he assured her, dropping his hand quickly. "Pushing on the boundaries of my mind, trying to see how easily she could get in." He paused for a second. "Showing me how much she could do without trying."

"And?"

The Doctor shrugged. "More than I'd like." He pushed past her, forcing her to duck through in a hurry to avoid the closing door.

The pair stepped into yet another hall, nearly identical to the throne room. This one, however, instead of a throne and holographic workstations, had a long dining table capable of seating well over two dozen people. It was groaning under the weight of rows and rows of dishes, all laden with things Clara assumed were food, but did not recognize a bit.

"Oh good," the Doctor said brightly. "Clara, you said you were hungry."

"I did," she agreed cautiously. Eyeing the offerings, however, she was beginning to lose her appetite.

"They're all delicacies, Clara," he assured her. "Don't be rude."

King Clarys was already at the head of the table. "Be seated, please," she invited them, settling herself into the upholstered chair next to her. Neither of the time-travelers failed to notice that her chair was not only more ornate, but several inches higher than any of the others. Raising an eyebrow at Clara, the Doctor led the way to their places.

"Impressive service," he said once they were seated.

"My entire waitstaff is composed of Meanwhiles," the King explained dismissively. "Waiting for something that could be instant is senseless. A point I think you've been making all your life, Doctor."

The Doctor shrugged. "If you've got a time machine, might as well use it. It's not just for decoration. Speaking of which," he added, spooning out some kind of thick purple soup for himself and handing the dish to Clara, "what's your plan for the TARDIS? Obviously you can move it about where you like, and I can't think you'd be leaving it in the middle of your fancy throne room. Doesn't match the decor."

"Mmm." The King smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Your TARDIS will be detained to ensure your… cooperation. I must be certain I can trust you, after all. This dinner and your intact minds are an expression of good faith. Be cautious how you answer."

"If it was really good faith, you'd give us the TARDIS back and let _us_ trust _you_ ," the Doctor muttered, sipping his soup. Clara tried hers as well, and discovered it tasted slightly of oranges.

"Such animosity, Doctor!" the King admonished him. "Truly, I'd heard better. Perhaps you doubt what I can do?"

Before Clara could react, the Neverwere had reached forward, seizing her chin and forcing the time traveler to look her in the eyes. Clara got the dim sense that she was doing the same to the Doctor. The King's whirling eyes seemed to expand, filling Clara's entire vision with swirling blackness.

"Doctor?" she called out, reaching forward. The sensation of a hand on her chin was already fading, and in moments she had forgotten the dinner table completely. "Doctor, what's happened?"

She was certain her eyes had been open, but now she opened them, looking around. The room was empty and bare, lit only by one small window high in the corner. Clara was lying on a cold stone floor that went on past what she could see. Immediately, she picked herself up in a panic.

"What… Where…" _Dungeon,_ she remembered suddenly. _They threw us in the dungeon. The Meanwhiles and the Neverweres and that King…_ But her thoughts were cut off as she suddenly felt gnawing pains in her stomach. Hunger. _How long have I been here? More importantly, where is the Doctor?_

Clara struggled to her feet, alarmed at how weak she was, and staggered away from the window, into the darkness. She kept one hand on the wall. "Doctor?" she called again, not sure what else to do. By the state of her body, Clara guessed that she'd been trapped here for far longer than she'd like - months, at least.

"So why don't I remember any of this?" she said aloud, hoping that the sound of her voice would break through the thickening darkness. She went to brush the hair from her eyes and found it matted with what smelled like blood. Reaching further back, Clara discovered a nasty welt on the back on her head, swollen and scabbed. "Oh. Right." Had they simply thrown her in and left her to die?

"But why are we still here?" she asked herself, still struggling forward. "The Doctor would have gotten us out by now. He doesn't just give up." Clara refused to say aloud the next question: _so what's happened to him?_

"Listen, whoever you are!" she yelled, wincing as her voice echoed off the stones. She was in near-complete darkness now. "The Doctor will come, and he's going to win. He always wins, and nothing you do can-"

Her foot hit something, cutting her off mid-sentence. Crouching down, she reached forward, feeling around for whatever it was and praying it wasn't a rat.

"Oh my God." Clara leaned sideways, letting the little light available shine ahead of her, confirming her worst fears. "Doctor, what have they done?"

The pale light revealed a heavily wrinkled face, thick grey eyebrows, and a scowl Clara would recognize anywhere. Desperately, frantically, Clara put a finger to his neck, searching for a pulse. She found none.

"No," she whispered, "no, no, no no no no no, Doctor!" She felt a tear slip down her face and angrily dashed it away. "He's not dead, he can't be dead…" Giving in, Clara put her head down on his too-still chest and sobbed.

As she cried, something around her shifted, warping and bending. Her senses lost their focus, and in what felt like forever, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

"Clara? Come on, Clara, wake up. You're getting soup in your hair."

Her head whipped up, flinging bits of orange soup across the dining table. "Doctor! You're alright!"

"I am," he assured her, smiling, though his eyes were dark. "Now."

"What…" Clara began, and then, as her gaze settled on the King, she understood. "You."

"Do you understand?" the King asked, her voice level. "This is the power I hold. That is also where you could be. Trust me when I say that you are in a good situation. Do not ruin it for yourself."

She settled back in her chair, relaxing. "Now then. Perhaps you'd like to hear what I have to say."

* * *

 **A.N: Well, I am managing to stick to my every other day schedule, though this is a bit late. The reason being that I forgot a rather large chunk, then had to add it in and chop the end off for the next chapter. Basically, I have most of chapter 5 done, and this is a bit late. But anyway. Here, my friends! I know this is a bit darker than my norm, but it feels right. I hope you enjoyed it! Do please leave a review, and again, if you haven't gone and read the first two Mystery Girl stories, I cannot recommend more highly that you do. Things will soon be much clearer if you have some background. It's not just plugging, I swear.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	5. Help the Oppressed

"No," the Doctor said, setting his spoon down with finality. "We leave now."

Clara was still reeling. _It wasn't real. You know it wasn't real._ But even now, back in the opulent dining room, she could remember every detail of the dungeon as clearly as if she had truly experienced it. She knew that the image of the Doctor's pale face would haunt her dreams for years.

"You haven't even heard my request," the King said sweetly, though there was an edge to her voice. "Will you refuse me without knowing what you could gain?"

"You plant memories in our minds, flood us with horrors, and expect us to sit and eat and talk nicely?" He shook his head. "You must be insane. There's more truth to the rumors than I thought."

He stood up, pushing back his chair, but got no further. The King's eyes sped up and swirled, and the Doctor crumpled. He landed roughly back in the chair, eyes open, but clearly seeing something else. It lasted only moments before the King released him, but the Doctor was clearly shaken.

"You will stay and listen," the King said severely. "Remember, if you will, that you have no other choice."

Clara kept her head down, trying not to attract attention. Her fear and despair was slowly turning to anger. As the Doctor slowly straightened up, pulling his chair back to the table, she saw a matching fury in his eyes and knew that the matter was not over.

"Give me the TARDIS back, and then we can talk," the Doctor insisted stubbornly. "I don't play without all of my cards."

"And how much of a fool would I be to fold on my own wager?" the King inquired smoothly.

"So my reward for helping you is the return of what's already mine?" He snorted. "On most planets, they call that blackmail, not negotiation."

"The two are the same at heart. The only difference is situation." She set down her soup spoon - Clara hadn't seen her take a single bite. "Much like you and I, Doctor."

"You and me," Clara corrected her. "Hypercorrection, it's horrible, my students are always doing it… Er, sorry. Do go on."

The King cast her an appraising glance before turning back to the Time Lord. "I speak the truth, and I believe you know it as well. Look at us." She leaned back in her chair, offering a very clear view - something Clara appreciated rather more than the Doctor. "Two fighters, two leaders. Two people who have done things they'd rather not have, but do not entirely regret. Commanded armies, ruined lives, done good where we could. Can you deny it?"

Positively dripping with skepticism, the Doctor crossed him arms. "And that's meant to be us? I'm definitely negotiation, then." She nodded, conceding the point. "And that's still blackmail."

"Not entirely. There is, of course, a reward for you. But first, perhaps, our situation." With a snap of her fingers, the dishes in front of them changed instantly - evidently Meanwhile servants had come and gone. The King invited them to eat, but again, took none for herself. Leaning forward, she said, "Doctor, my people are oppressed, though they may not know it yet."

Clara, cleaning the soup out of her hair, noticed suddenly that the three of them were the only people of any kind in the room. She thought back to what the Doctor had said: Possibilities fear solitude above all else. Did the King trust them enough that she felt at ease in their presence? Or was she simply so confident in her abilities that the Doctor posed no threat?

 _If that's what she thinks, she clearly hasn't met him,_ she told herself. And yet clearly, King Clarys was familiar at least with his reputation… What had she shown the Doctor as the worst possible situation?

Trying not to wonder too much about the King's power and the control she had over them, Clara returned to her soup.

The Doctor snorted. "Oppressed, oh, that's new. Let me guess, it's the Time Lords again? Or maybe one of the planets you conquered, that's always a good one. You haven't got a secret twin sister?"

"Enough jokes," she said with some severity. "In truth, we do not know the identity of our oppressor, only that she is very powerful."

"She?" Clara repeated, somewhat surprised. "Sorry, it's just that… Isn't oppressing peoples a bit of a guy thing?"

"Evidently not." The King's expression was mixed disdain and irritation. Her eyes began to swirl faster.

"You don't look too oppressed to me," the Doctor commented, looking pointedly at the heaping table. "You ought to go to Tivoli."

"The loss of one's free will does not have to be materialistic, but taxes just the same. Doctor, we are controlled by a threat that should have been impossible, and yet we have no defense against it."

"Tell me what's going on," the Doctor demanded. "You've been dancing around it for ages. What's got you so afraid?"

Instead of answering, the King rose from her chair and walked over to a small, unobtrusive doorway covered by a thin curtain. Reaching behind it, she drew out a child, a girl of no more than five, and led her over to their table. The child kept her eyes on the floor.

"My sister's daughter," Clarys explained. "Left in my care while her parents flew to fight the Time Lords."

"What's happened to her?" Clara had been around children enough in her life to know that something with this girl wasn't right. She stood too still. She hadn't once looked up at the strangers from another world. Clara had never met a five year old with so little curiosity.

"Rhaegen was playing at my feet when she came." The King stroked the child's dark hair fondly. "A vortex opened above us, blue and swirling, extending into the sky, and a figure descended out of it."

"What did it look like?" asked the Doctor instantly, eyebrows furrowing together. "Shape, size?"

"Humanoid in shape, but it's hard to be certain," she admitted. "She was wearing heavy black cloaks. The voice was most certainly female."

The Doctor glanced at Clara. "So what did she say?"

"No one move," Clarys recited. "No one even breathe. Your powers are useless against me. Listen." Rhaegen shuddered, the first willing movement they'd seen her make.

"Overdramatic, then," the Doctor muttered. "Well, that narrows it down."

Ignoring him, the ruler continued. "There is a man known only as 'the Doctor.' He fights in the Time War for the Time Lords. If you value your magic and your civilization as you know it, capture this man, but do not kill him! She was most insistent on that," she added, dropping her recitation.

"So not just good business," Clara observed. "You didn't have much of a choice."

The King shrugged lightly, making her dress ripple and drawing attention to her figure. "Negotiation and blackmail," she repeated. "I never claimed the idea as original."

"So then what?" the Doctor pressed, determined to force the story out, focus staying unwavering on the ruler's face. Clara wished she could say the same. "You refused, I assume."

"Naturally. As much as we may wish to see you done away with, Doctor, we do things on our own terms, and not at the beck and call of any stranger with a box who comes our way."

The Doctor grimaced, thinking of the TARDIS, but Clara's attention was caught. "Hold on, box? What box?"

"The figure carried some small square box with her," the King said, gaze flicking from Clara to the Doctor and back again. "She did not ever appear to interact with it, so we thought it of little significance." Her eyes narrowed at the Doctor's deepening frown. "You think otherwise."

"Well, it's a bit odd, isn't it?" he asked no one in particular. "I mean, if you're coming in to conquer a people and terrify them into obeying you, _why_ would you bring just a box along? Spoils the aesthetic."

"To be fair, it was quite decorative," Clarys pointed out. "Covered in gears and gold."

"But even so," the Doctor continued, waving her off, "that's a lot to carry, isn't it? I mean, why would you bring anything along unless you had a use for it?"

"So she must have needed it, then," Clara said reasonably. "Maybe that supported the vortex thing?"

The King shrugged slightly, placing one hand on her niece's shoulder. "Power of that king? I'm certain I'd have felt it. Then again, none of us yet understand precisely what it was that happened with our magics. If-"

"No, hold on, shut up," the Doctor said suddenly, holding up his hands. He pointed to the King. "Go back, what you said, what you just said, what was it?"

She stared. "Oh, he's always like that," Clara explained, trying to smile and be polite. "Just repeat it."

"I said, no one here understands what the figure did to our power-"

"No, no, before that. Boxes and gears and gold and… Clara!" He whirled around to focus on her, stare at full strength. "Mysterious box. Swirling vortex. Inexplicable powers." He raised an eyebrow. "Ring a bell?"

Clara's eyes widened. "The Moment?"

"So it would seem."

"The Moment?" the King repeated. "And what is that?"

"Explanations later," said the Doctor, glancing meaningfully at Clara. "Go on with the story. You refused her demands. What next?"

The King hesitated a beat, deciding whether to pursue the topic, but finally continued her tale. "The figure looked around the room. We couldn't see her eyes, before you ask," she said as the Doctor opened his mouth, "but we could _feel_ it. The pressure swept around the room and settled on my Rhaegen."

The child trembled, still looking resolutely at the floor. Clara noticed suddenly that she was weeping silently, her shoulders shaking. The governess in Clara reached out and pulled the girl close. To her surprise, Rhaegen collapsed into her arms, burying her face in Clara's shoulder.

"She said that if we doubted, if we even hesitated, her fate would be all of ours." The King glanced at the child, sadness and anger mixed. "She screamed and fell over, clutching her head, and in the chaos, the figure disappeared, and the vortex closed. We have heard nothing of it since."

"What happened to her?" the Doctor asked quietly.

"Her power is gone," Clarys said, her voice soft. "Stripped away, forever, as far as anyone can tell. I've had our best doctors and magicians working on her since the moment it happened, but…" She shrugged. "Nothing so far."

"Gone? How?" Clara asked, glancing down at the crying child she held.

"Rhaegen, show them your eyes," the King commanded. The girl whimpered and shook her head. " _Now._ "

"Rhaegen," the Doctor said gently, to the surprise of both women, "could you look up, please? Just for a minute. Just so we can see."

Clara leaned back to look at Rhaegen, her surprise deepening as the child lifted her head and looked at the Doctor. _Dad skills,_ he mouthed at her, then nodded toward the girl's face.

At first glance, she appeared perfectly normal, with one very significant difference: where the eyes of the other Possibilities were constantly full of swirling gold flecks, Rhaegen's were completely still and black, just empty pools of darkness. It was unsettling, to say the least.

"Thank you, Rhaegen," the King said, more gently than they'd yet seen her. "You can go back."

Eyes back on the floor, Rhaegen slipped out of Clara's hold and darted back behind the curtain.

"What was that?" Clara demanded as soon as the girl had gone.

"Her magic is gone, like she said," the Doctor answered before the King could get a word in. "Those gold flecks, that's the power, leaking out. Like drain pipes." He pointed towards Clarys, whose glaring eyes were full of gold. "No offense, your Majesty."

"Tread carefully," the King warned, but Clara sensed that her threats were weakening. "In truth, Doctor, I am very afraid." She leaned forward, staring intently. "We need your help."

* * *

 **A.N: Cripes, that was long. I debated splitting it in half, but what the heck. There you go, friends. I hope you enjoyed, because I did.**

 **As soon as I post this, I'm going to go post a little update to both of the previous stories here to hopefully regain some old readers. If you have been reading along since the beginning, let me know! Does it still feel the same? How have I changed? Has it been for the better? (I hope so). I dearly need to see myself through your eyes. Thanks so much!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	6. The King and I

"Turn me in," the Doctor said immediately. "It's obviously your best option."

"What?" Clara exclaimed.

"You cannot be serious, Doctor," said the King, slowly, as though dealing with a simpleton. "Give yourself up to an unbeatable presence that is scouring the galaxy to find you? Foolishness itself."

"Yes, two problems with that. One-" he held up a finger- "Not unbeatable. Nothing's unbeatable, not if you try hard enough. Two-" another finger went up- "a little foolishness goes a long way. Don't knock it til you've tried it. Three, do you know she's gone through the whole galaxy? Or was it just you?" He leaned forward, eyebrows up, waiting for her answer. "I didn't think so. Also, why didn't you turn me in the second I arrived? Answer: _good business._ You thought I could help you. Right?"

Clarys said nothing.

"Right. I'm telling you now, the best way for me to help you is to pop back in the TARDIS, you send us up, and we'll go from there. You can go back to ruling your little world however you like." He glanced at his hand, now fully open, then at Clara. "That was more than two problems, wasn't it."

"Honestly," she answered blithely, "I lost count." Once she'd gotten over the original shock, Clara had to admit it wasn't a bad idea. What the Doctor said made sense - at least, as much sense as usual. Fire yourself at the problem and solve it when you get there: it was basically their M.O.

The King, however, remained unconvinced. "Suppose you fail?" she asked. "Or suppose you turn on us and never return? I would have to be a fool to release my best bargaining chip so early in the game."

"And we're back on the poker," muttered the Doctor, rubbing his eyes. "I didn't think that'd ever made it past Mars."

"Just trust him," Clara told the King, taking her hand and ignoring her sudden butterflies. "We do this all the time, and he knows what he's doing. If the Doctor says he'll help you, he will. Besides," she added, glancing at her friend, "he can't ever resist a crying child."

For a moment, the King seemed to hesitate, looking down at their joined hands. "Clara…" Then she lifted her head, pulling her hand away, and her regal bearing was back in place. "You must understand, both of you, that I have no reason to trust you at all."

"Oh, and we've got even less to trust you!" said Clara, slightly hurt by the rejection. "You fill our heads with horrible memories, take us prisoner-"

"Have you been mistreated?" the King inquired, cold as ice. "Remember, those memories show you how much worse things could be."

"Just because you're not abusing us doesn't mean we should trust you!" she yelled. The Doctor raised a hand and shot her a warning glance, and she subsided.

"Some lost possibilities should never be found," the King told her. The words seemed to echo suddenly in the hall. "Take care you choose carefully."

"Okay, listen," interjected the Doctor, glancing between the two women, "this is ridiculous. Your Majesty, if you truly are fighting the Time War right now, which I still don't understand, then you've heard of me. You know my reputation, you know the things I've done. I've got one hell of a résumé to prove that I am the best person you could possibly find to do this, and if someone's mucking about with time, I want to know. We're on the same side here."

"We are?" Clara asked, crossing her arms.

"Yes. Hush." The Doctor leaned forward, holding the King's swirling eyes with his own. "Let me do this."

He fell silent, waiting for the decision. Clara had a feeling that, regardless of what the King said, the Doctor would go ahead and investigate anyway, but was keen to avoid a fight. Clarys looked him over, considering, balancing her helplessness against her wariness. At last, practicality won out.

"Very well, Doctor, you may go. But know," she announced, "that you go on your own terms, under your own name only. Should you fail, I want no retribution to fall upon our people."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," the Doctor assured her, springing up from his chair. "TARDIS is still in the throne room?"

"I'll summon someone to guide you." She snapped her fingers and, instantly, a Meanwhile appeared at her side. "Lead this man back to his ship," she instructed.

"Unharmed, mentally and physically," the Doctor added. The King smiled tightly.

"Yes. Unharmed. See to it."

The Meanwhile trotted out of the room, the Doctor close behind him. The height difference was comical. Clara rose from her chair, ready to follow, but was called back.

"A moment, if you would." The King beckoned her back to the table. "I would speak with you. Only you," she added as the Doctor turned around.

"I'll be fine," Clara assured him with more confidence than she felt. She flashed him a smile and waved him off. "You go."

She waited until he was out of the room, then turned back to the King, eyebrows up, waiting, forcing the other woman to break the silence.

"Sit with me, Clara," the King said, indicating the empty chair beside her.

"Is that a command?"

"A request." Clarys sighed. "Take the olive branch, please. I mean you no harm."

"Right," Clara said skeptically, but she walked over and settled into the charm. "So. You wanted to talk to me? Talk away."

The King was silent for a while, so long that Clara wondered if she was being silent just to spite her. Finally she said, "You and your Doctor, you are always together?"

"Not always," she replied, quickly recovering from her surprise at the unexpected direction of conversation. "We do our own things too, you know. But the big things, yeah. Adventures, planet-saving."

"I thought as much." The King stared at nothing for a moment more, her swirling eyes slowing until they were hypnotizing. "I am the youngest king my people has had in centuries," she said suddenly. "My rise was controversial, to say the least."

"Because of your age?" Clara asked, not sure where this was going. "Because that's rubbish."

Clarys smiled. "Partly that. Partly due to my…" She glanced at Clara, then seemed to change her mind. "Methods. But mostly for my ideas. I have been trying to convince my council to pull out of the Time War," she added, looking for her guest's reaction.

"Really?" She took a second to process that. "How's that going?"

"Not well," the King admitted, looking down. Clara took the opportunity to admire her - magical alien or not, the woman was gorgeous. "They are very tied to ancient hatreds. Their connections to old traditions are what makes their counsel valuable, but… they are blind to what could be."

"And you think you'd be better off not fighting?"

"War simply for revenge is foolish," she confirmed. "Given the choice, I would be at the front lines myself, but I must always think of my people. Because of this war, the daily lives of our citizens are suffering. And that brings me to my request."

Clara sat up a little straighter. She was deathly curious now, but was doing her best to stay aloof.

"Clara, perhaps our past kings could manage alone, but I cannot. I cannot deal with both foreign wars and the welfare of my people. I do not trust anyone in my council not to flatter me, or to tell me what they believe I wish to hear out of self-promotion or fear." She leaned forward. "And then you arrived."

"So have the Doctor lead your army," Clara suggested, though she was fairly certain she knew what point Clarys was driving at. "He'd do better than you deserve, don't worry about that."

"Lead a war against his own planet?" the King asked skeptically. "Lead an army of the enemies of his people? I think not." She settled back in her chair, running a hand through her hair and setting the lights at the tips dancing. "Besides, one ruler who knows the ways of war is enough. No, what the Possibilities need is someone kind. Compassionate. Understanding."

She reached out and took Clara's hand, making her catch her breath. "Stay with me, Clara," she begged softly. "Rule at my side. Teach the people how to live again, not only to fight."

Clara opened her mouth to answer, but Clarys reached forward and laid a finger on her lips, silencing her most effectively. "It's a large question, I know," she acknowledged, "and I am aware you still do not fully trust me, so I would like to do something for you, if you will permit me."

"Okay," Clara said cautiously, the movement of her lips against the other woman's finger leaving her tingling. "What?"

Smiling softly, the King said, "I would like to show you my very best memory."

 _It's the ultimate compliment,_ the Doctor had said. _Sharing your best memories._ Clara blinked, surprised and flattered in equal measure. She felt a flicker of suspicion as well - it hadn't been too long since the Neverwere was psychologically torturing her. Then again, she reasoned, memories aren't permanent, and she'd already seen the worst possible situation.

Clarys was watching her carefully, waiting for an answer. Mustering a smile, Clara nodded. The King smiled back, looking genuinely pleased.

"Wonderful." She reached forward, placing on gentle hand on either side of Clara's face in a gesture that was oddly intimate. "Look into my eyes and relax."

Despite her instant resistance to giving up control, Clara forced herself to calm down. Indeed, it was easy to lose herself in Clarys's eyes, even without the swirls. Before long, she felt her senses dissolving once more, and shut her eyes, letting herself drift away.

* * *

 **A.N: I'm back! Yay! I'm not sure I've mentioned it here yet, but I'm currently in a show celebrating a big theater anniversary in my hometown, which is fun, but also shows are very soon and I'm busy. So writing time is sliding down a bit. But I'm still plugging away, of course! Also, I'm going to try my hardest to finish at least one more chapter before November, because as soon as Nov. 1 rolls around, I'm dropping this story like a hot potato in favor of my project for NaNoWriMo. So you won't see me for a month. Apologies for that. Use the time to read some of my other stories? Maybe?**

 **Anyway, thank you all again so much for reading along, and for the reviews as well! Mystery Girl is suddenly doing really well again, which is a bit weird, but I'm definitely not complaining. Let's wish the same good luck to this one!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	7. Half-Remembered Memories

Clara knew she was dreaming, knew this was a memory that wasn't hers, but it was so vivid and _real_ that she almost forgot. She was back in the throne room, but from a different perspective - the throne itself?

It took her a minute to adjust - seeing things through the King's eyes was like nothing else. Everything seemed to waver just a bit, like the air just above a campfire. Clara could see faint layers of different throne rooms, or maybe the same room through time, superimposed on each other. It was all a bit tinny, distanced. Second-hand.

Her attention, or maybe the King's attention - it was difficult to distinguish between Clara's own thoughts and the thoughts of her host - was suddenly caught by a disturbance in the center of the room. A very familiar sound, a flickering blue shape. Clara's vision twisted, and everything froze.

Was this what it felt like to stop time? It must be.

She glanced to her side and saw a Meanwhile nodding at her. It was his work, Clara knew suddenly. He was her top attendant, her main suitor. He was useful, if distasteful.

The King rose from her throne and walked towards the shape, carrying Clara with her. It was frozen halfway into existence, but the police box was clearly visible.

A rush of things went through the King's mind, washing over Clara quickly but powerfully. Wonder, then fear, then anger at the intrusion, then suspicion and fear again. She reached out to touch the figure, but her hand passed directly through it, and she jerked back in startled alarm.

 _This should not be._ A flicker in the back of her mind - a rumor, a whisper… Had she heard of this before?

"Bring in the guards," she commanded, turning away. "As many as are available. We must be prepared."

She walked back to her throne, settling herself in and draping her cloak dramatically. First impressions, she knew, were everything. She nodded to the Meanwhile and time resolved itself, the alien box returning to its flickering.

Guards began streaming in, assembling themselves in the straight, disciplined rows they so valued. The King nodded, satisfied. This would be an intimidating display.

The box clunked into place, fully appearing, and in that instant, the identity of the owner clicked into place as well.

 _The Warrior. The Doctor. He is here._ Again, a tidal wave of emotions - fear, curiosity, fear, intimidation. _War, destruction, and an ice-cold legend who swept in with calculated brutality. Oh, I admire him, even as his presence terrifies me._ But it was all pushed down with startling speed, replaced with a confidence and readiness to deal with the problem as she had with so many before: carefully, quickly, and decisively.

The door creaked open and a gray, wizened face peered out, glancing around with a distinct lack of surprise that the King found somewhat disappointing. Clearly this opponent was well-informed, by whatever means. She had heard stories of his machine, this _TARDIS_ , for years, ever since she was a child. No one knew full well what it could do - not even, she had heard, the Time Lords themselves.

And then the door opened further. The Doctor stepped out, and behind him…

 _Wow._ Clara wasn't sure who thought it - perhaps they both did - but every facet of the King's vision shifted, focusing in on the young woman stepping out and staring around the room. Clara saw herself brighter, softer, and, if she was honest, prettier than she was.

She was swept away by the overwhelming tide of feelings. Clara could sort out attraction, desire… relief?

 _This could be everything I've been waiting for. A woman, traveling with the Doctor… She must be more than capable, and able to love-_ A block, like a burst of static, as the thought was shoved away. _She must be able to see the good in strange and unloveable things._

Suddenly, Clara felt her mind, or whatever consciousness was present in this moment, hurtling forward, spinning through time. Vaguely, she glimpsed hundreds of pathways, spinning out all around her, but the King seemed to know her path.

When they 'arrived,' Clara was mildly surprised to see herself, still more beautiful than she knew she was. It was a better version, she sensed, a more complete, confident Clara. A Clara sitting in a golden throne at the King's side, loved by her people and her partner. _This could be real. This could be me._ A collective sigh. _Isn't it amazing?_

"This isn't a memory," Clara said, though she wasn't sure if she actually made a sound. "This didn't really happen."

"No." The King's voice echoed around the room in her head. Was she actually hearing it? Was she thinking it herself? "But it could, Clara. It is, much like myself, a distinct possibility."

"That's your best memory?" she asked, skeptical. "Me coming here?"

"It ranks among the top," the King admitted. "My life has been… decidedly lacking in genuine companionship." A flurry of images - a child separated by rank, a young woman feared by those around her, a new ruler given lip service by everyone around her. Isolation, guarded emotions, an ebony facade.

"And you thought I could be genuine companionship?" Clara pulled back, retreating from the King's consciousness a bit. "Why?"

She could feel Clarys's gentle amusement. "I think you may have felt it a bit. When someone can stand to be in the Doctor's company for longer than a conversation's length, it is clear that they derive some amount of pleasure from being with those often deemed unpleasant or brutal. Furthermore, anyone willing to travel with him and aid him in his adventures is a competent and ingenuitive person. He only takes the best."

Clara fervently hoped Clarys couldn't tell whether the flattery had worked.

"Take me back, please," she said instead. "Conversations are awkward like this, and a bit unnecessary, don't you think? I'm much more charming in person." She knew she was babbling, but she was more than a little nervous - what if the King didn't let her leave? Clara had trusted her on the spur of the moment. Hopefully it would pan out.

For a moment, the King clearly hesitated as well. Her indecision washed over Clara for one split second - but then she was returning to herself, the tantalizing vision fading away until she was back in her chair in the dining room, picking her head up off the table.

"It's a wonderful idea, isn't it?" the King asked softly, straightening her hair. Clara tried not to notice the way it shone as it fell over her shoulders. "Nothing to hold you back from taking charge. You like leading, don't you?"

"I'm honoured, your Majesty," Clara said quickly, "really I am. But I can't return the favor to you. How can I lead your people when they have so many powers I don't? Why would they obey me?"

"Out of adoration and respect for you and your office," replied the King immediately.

"And until I earn that?" she pressed.

The King's eyes hardened. "They would not have a choice."

There was a pause. _Okay_ , Clara thought, _new tactic_. "I have a life, your Majesty-"

"I asked you to call me Clarys." Her voice was quiet - she knew what was coming.

"I have a life back on Earth," Clara continued, determinedly skating past the subject. "I've got friends, family, people I care about, I can't just abandon them."

"So you would give up ruling a nation, traveling the universe, living as my queen for the life you have always known? Trading discovery for familiarity, excitement for safety, love for comfort, _Clara!"_ She pounded the table, leaning forward, eyes alight. "Think of it!"

"I… don't actually want to rule, though," Clara answered, choosing her words carefully. "And I get a lot of that with the Doctor already."

"I see." The fervor seemed to drain out of her. "Clara Oswald, I have burned worlds more beautiful, more troublesome, more alive than you by far, and I did not lose sleep." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. "Why are you still living?"

Clara swallowed hard. Somehow this question felt bigger than it seemed. "Because I refuse to die."

The King nodded slowly. "I believe you." There was a pause, one long enough that Clara was debating simply getting up and leaving, when her host spoke again. "I could force you to stay."

"You could try." There was more confidence in her tone than she actually felt.

"I would succeed." Clarys chuckled slightly. "Still fighting. But I will not."

Blinking in surprise, Clara asked, "Really?"

"Really," she said with a smile. "You may go, so long as you leave me with the hope that you might one day return."

"I think I can manage that." Clara stood up. "I'm going to find the Doctor now. It has been a real pleasure, your Majesty."

"Let me escort you," Clarys suggested, rising as well. "There are those in my court who do not wish well on outsiders. And it would be… nice… to have you on my arm at least once."

With only the briefest reluctance, Clara accepted the invitation, and the two left the room arm in arm. Privately, Clara was glad of it - as awkward as it might be, this had to be better than being guided by a random Meanwhile servant like the Doctor had been. She wondered for a moment how he was getting on.

 _I'm sure he's fine,_ she thought to herself. _He's the Doctor. The Doctor is always fine._

* * *

 **A.N: I'm _baaack!_** **Did you miss me? I missed you all. I cannot believe the amount of interest this got - the number of followers tripled while I was working on my NaNoWriMo. As to that, there are more details in my bio. Go look if you're curious.**

 **Anyway, this story is back in full swing. I cannot wait to get back to the Doctor. I did not have any really dynamic characters in my NaNo - at least, not as dynamic as him - and I missed it dreadfully. Plus, this story is still hardly getting started (we're about halfway through the first of four sections) and I am extremely excited about where it's going. I really think you're going to like it. Thanks so much for reading, everybody!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**

 **P.S: Can somebody please go leave a review on Mystery Girl? Absolutely anything will do. It's been sitting at 99 reviews for ages and it's killing me.**

 **P.P.S: Yes, that last line was a Welcome to Night Vale reference. Good catch! I am recently in love with it. Carlos and Cecil are definite OTP material.**


	8. The Doctor is Usually Fine

The Doctor was fine. Suspicious, yes. Nervous, a bit. Curious, definitely, but overall, fine. He followed the tiny Meanwhile back through the corridors of the castle, glowering at any unfortunate Possibility that crossed his path.

Things took a turn, however, when his guide veered away from the road they had traveled before, leading the Doctor down a side hall. "Okay," he muttered. "So they moved it. Why? Was it in the way, that happens sometimes."

The Meanwhile glanced back over his shoulder, his expression difficult to read. Disgust? Anger? Disdain? The Doctor shook his head - he'd gotten too used to creatures with proper eyes. He ought to go to Clom more often.

"Alright, I can wait," he told his guide. "I've waited centuries, I suppose, what's a little more?" He reached into a pocket, feeling around until he found his yoyo, and pulled it out, whistling as he bounced it. The sound echoed through the stone halls, clearly out of place.

"Your machine." The Meanwhile led him to a door, short enough that the Doctor was forced to duck. The TARDIS sat in the middle of a small, sterile room, conspicuously empty.

"Ah. Good. When Clara shows up, just tell her to knock." The Meanwhile bowed and left.

The Doctor strode up to the door, pleased to be back with something he understood, but his hand paused just before it reached the handle.

The door was slightly ajar.

Cautiously, the Doctor patted his pocket. Yes, his key was still inside. He was certain he had locked it. Last time it had been left open, half an ocean had gotten in. After the amount of work it had taken to get the whale out of the karaoke bar, the Time Lord was positive he would never leave it open again.

He pushed the door open, reflexes taut, half-expecting something to spring out at him, but the inside was dark and quiet.

Too quiet. No humming buzz to welcome him, no lights flicking on in recognition, no extractor fans pumping in atmosphere. How long had it been like that?

"That's a very not good sign," the Doctor murmured, striding to the console. He pressed a few buttons, but got no response. "I might even say it's a bad sign."

Whirling away from the console, coat tails flying behind him, the Doctor darted down the stairs to the lower level, pulling out his sonic sunglasses and slipping them on his nose. "What's going on down here?" he muttered, squatting down and staring up at the TARDIS underbelly.

"No power. Wait-" He leaned forward, peering up at the tangle of wires above him and tapping the sonic sunglasses. "Almost no power. Something's draining it," he added with a wry chuckle. "No prizes for guessing who."

With one finger, the Doctor traced a wire back to the center. A coil was wrapped around a clump of wires, black but with a faint golden sheen that pulsed like a heartbeat. It reminded him unpleasantly of regeneration energy.

He nodded, suspicions confirmed. "I thought so. Sorry, old girl, no time to be fancy."

He patted the console affectionately, then reached up, grabbed the coil, and yanked, keeping the sonic sunglasses focused in on it.

The coil resisted, stretching a moment before releasing the wires and sending the Doctor staggering backwards. Instantly, with a life of its own, the thing reached for the Doctor's hand, wrapping around a finger. Immediately, he could feel it pulling at his life force.

"Oh, go away," he muttered, sonicing it into submission. "I eat things worse than you for breakfast. Well, not actually. At least not recently. Although there was that one banquet with the Intergalactic Ballroom Dancing Association…"

He trailed off, looking around with a grin, then sighed as he remembered Clara wasn't there. "It's just not as much fun without an audience," he told the thing devouring his hand before bounding back up the stairs to the door. "And you definitely don't count."

In one fluid motion, the Doctor pulled the door open, flung the coil outside, and slammed the door shut behind him, leaning against it. Carefully, he slid the deadbolt shut, double-checking that it was indeed locked.

"Of course, this begs the question:" he said to himself, voice echoing in the too-quiet TARDIS, "how did they get in?"

He could almost hear Clara's voice in his head. _Come on, Time Lord. They play by different rules. Figure it out. What do you know?_

"There are possibilities." The Doctor began to pace around the room as he thought aloud. "Two kinds, Meanwhiles and Neverweres. Either one stopped time while we were leaving and slipped in, or the other changed my memories so I don't remember leaving it open, or opening it. Or they could have some other method, it doesn't really matter."

 _Why not?_

"Because the important part isn't how, not really, not anymore." He stepped back, his gaze traveling slowly up the center tower of the TARDIS console. "The important part is why.

"Fact: Possibilities and Time Lords share common ancestry. They chose magic. We picked tech."

He stepped back, running a hand along the TARDIS console.

"Fact: we are in the climax of the Time War. The Time Lords are one of the two most feared races in the universe. The Possibilities, frankly, can't hold a candle to us."

A glimmer of an idea, a smile.

"Fact: most of Time Lord power comes from technology. Without it, we don't have a prayer of winning. Further fact: all Time Lord technology is connected by the Untempered Schism. Get into that, assuming you survive, and you can have everything."

The Doctor ran down the stairs, back to the lower level, nudging his sunglasses up his nose. "Theory: the Possibilities aren't idiots. I know, bear with me. They know what taking control of even one TARDIS could mean, especially my TARDIS. Control my wheels, you control me."

He snatched a small penlight out of one of the many small cupboards around.

"But the Possibilities can control time, even better than I can." Peering forward, he added, "There's no way I surprised them. Whatever they were doing, they finished, and it turned out just like they wanted it."

The Doctor reached for a tangle of wires, separating out a few thicker ones.

"Further theory: they _want_ me to believe they're only draining the TARDIS's power cells, but it's definitely something much more sinister than that. Something more controlling." He paused. "And I hate being controlled."

Pulling the selected wires taut, the Doctor reached deep into one pocket.

"Conclusion: given the theories as correct, all I should have to do is… _this!"_

He whipped out a pair of heavy bolt cutters - maybe a bit overkill, he would admit later, but they got the job done - and sliced through the wires in one go.

Instead of the dramatic, explosive solution he was expecting, there came a slow, winding hum… the sound of a massive machine shutting down.

"Conclusion," the Doctor whispered, staring up at the silent, pitch black room above him. "This is going to be more complicated than I thought." A slow grin spread across his face. "Must be Christmas."

* * *

 **A.N: Hi guys. Sorry it's been a while. I will admit it is nice not to have to write every day anymore, and with finals and general business, plus taking time to get back in the stream of the Doctor Who business, time piled up. But hey, at least it wasn't another month, right?**

 **Anyway, I do hope you all could picture this as vividly as I could. Can't you just hear the music in the background? I love it.**

 **Also, thanks to horror101 for leaving the 100th review on Mystery Girl! It was driving me crazy, and it's so nice to have it resolved now. I'm so pleased. So thank you, and thank you all for reading! Please leave a review, even if just to say hi!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	9. Stick Together

"Doctor?"

The Doctor looked up through the darkness, dropping the wires. "Clara?"

"Doctor, are you there?" She paused, like she was looking behind her. He wondered who else was with her. "The door's locked, and my key's not working."

"I was afraid of that," he muttered, feeling his way to the stairs. A faint glimmer of light shone from the door windows, but it was enough to guide him. The Doctor knew the layout of the place like the back of his hand. Better, actually.

He reached the door and pressed his hands to the glass. "Clara, the doors need power to unlock. It's not just the key that keeps them shut."

"Okay… You don't have power? Why?"

"I don't know exactly," he admitted, jaw set, "but I suspect that whoever led you in here has a pretty good idea."

Clara looked back at the King, who stood elegantly in the doorway. Her eyes were wide as she shook her head, protesting her innocence. "I had nothing to do with this, I swear."

"Your Majesty!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Oh, better and better. Go right to the top, I always say. Maybe. Nothing to do with it, eh? As if anyone below you has any autonomy. As if anyone on this planet has ever had a thought that didn't originate with you."

"You're being rude again," Clara cautioned, one hand still on the TARDIS door, but her thoughts were churning. In a society where thoughts could be shared immediately, where the ruler got her throne through mental manipulation… How much of anything she'd seen had been genuine? More than that, how much had been true?

"Clara, please believe me," the King said earnestly, stepping forward and placing a gentle hand on Clara's shoulder. "We're on the same side here, remember? My niece, your machine, it's all connected. We're all victims here."

That little girl… Clara could hardly remember her name. Rhaegan? Her powers stripped away by some mysterious power. Suddenly it felt very convenient.

"I need to get you inside here," the Doctor said, dashing to the console. "I'll try to divert whatever power we have left to trigger the lock mechanism. If-"

"No need, actually." He turned around to see Clara holding a bent bobby pin and wearing a nervous grin. "A lock without power is just a lock, I think."

"Oh. Well." Both bushy eyebrows went up. "Hairpins are highly underrated, apparently. Come on, come on."

Clara stepped inside, quickly shutting the door behind her and trying not to look back at Clarys behind her, one hand still outstretched. The TARDIS console, she noticed suddenly, was glowing slightly. "Hold on, I thought you didn't have any power."

He held a finger to his lips, beckoning her further inside and pointing to the door. "No power means no soundproofing."

"I wish you weren't so suspicious all the time," she said with a sigh.

"Being suspicious is why I'm still alive." The Doctor paused, glancing over his shoulder at her suspiciously. "What did she want to talk to you about anyway?"

One hand flew to her face. Clara tried to force the blush from her face. "Oh, nothing really," she said with an attempt at an easy grin. "Just girl stuff, basically."

The Doctor stared at her a moment longer, then turned away with a shrug. "And here's me thinking she was offering you a spot at her side and power over the entire planet. Ah well."

"So what's the situation?" Clara asked, happy to move the conversation along. "And really, because you've obviously got some power." She nodded towards the quietly blinking console.

"Only the tiniest bit, but the TARDIS is clever. She can recharge just so long as there's a little. We just have to fend _them_ off until she does."

Clara stared. "Fend them off? Who's them?"

"Who do you think?" The Doctor held up the pair of pliers. "I'm not slicing bits of the TARDIS for my health. Clara, there's an entire planet out there with mind-controlling powers, and until the TARDIS can get powered up properly, we don't have any way to keep them out."

"Okay." She took a minute to process that. "Then we have to… what?"

In answer, the Doctor tossed aside the pliers and grabbed her hand, holding on tightly. "Don't let go," he instructed. "It'll make it harder for them to split us up."

"Split us up?" Clara repeated, eyes wide. "Why? Is that important?"

"It's their biggest strategy," he said, busily setting TARDIS controls with his free hand. "Stronger together means weaker alone. Now. Ground rules:" He turned to face her, expression serious. "Don't ever leave my sight, and always stay where you can see me. Don't leave the console room until we're off the planet. Anything you remember twice, ignore both ways. They can't erase memories you already have, but they can make you doubt them."

"Is that likely?" she asked, somewhat apprehensively.

"No idea." The Doctor started to go back to the controls, but stopped abruptly, turning back. "Remember, they don't know me like you do. All they have is the time we've spent there and the stories they've heard from the Time War."

"I thought they fought in the Time War. Couldn't some have seen you then?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. But that's a different face. Much grumpier. Nothing like I am now."

"Really?" Clara grinned in spite of the situation. "If you say so."

"Shut up. The _point_ is, the memories they try to implant might not be very accurate. If you have to choose between two versions of events, pick the one that feels more like what I would do."

"I never know what you're going to do until you've done it."

"Make your best guess, then." The Doctor took off around the console, dragging Clara behind him. "I'm going to try to take off. Might have to close down some extra hallways and possibly the swimming pool, but we should have enough power by now."

 _Unless you're remembering something wrong,_ Clara thought, but she kept the thought to herself.

The Doctor peered at a dial, then nodded. "Ready? Might be rough one."

"Just do it," she said, glancing towards the door and gritting her teeth. Who knew how many Meanwhiles and Neverweres might be outside them at that very second?

"Right then. Three, two, one, _go!"_ With his free arm, the Doctor grabbed the lever and yanked it down.

For a second, as the engines groaned and the TARDIS began to shake, it looked as though they just might make it. But then came a feeling like wheels spinning in mud, showers of sparks, and then a colossal _jerk_ that knocked them both off their feet. Clara felt her head hit the floor and her hand slip out of the Doctor's, and then she stopped trying to feel anything at all.

* * *

 **A.N: Hi kids, I'm back. Apologies again for the delay. I do wish the Doctor would learn to stick to the plan and stop throwing unnecessary obstacles at himself. Everything would be much easier that way. Does that happen to you, that your characters refuse to go along with your plans? Ah well. We're back on track now. And I think he'll like the plan. Or actually, he really will not like the plan. But that's okay.**

 **Thank you all so much for reading, and to those of you who read even when I don't update. I love to see my view graph not dropping to zero immediately after I post a new chapter, and I'm so glad I have a dedicated fan base that's willing to make that happen. Thanks to you so very much!**

 **I will be traveling to see my dad's family for the holidays, so goodness knows when the next chapter will be up, but I am really excited to write it, so that's a motivator. And, of course, your reviews are highly motivating as well. You know that.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	10. Broken

Clara opened her eyes and scrambled to her feet, coughing and peering through the hazy room. One hand found a railing and she followed it as quickly as she could, staggering through the door and on down the TARDIS corridor, turning corner after corner in her desperation to get away.

It wasn't until she stopped to catch her breath that she wondered what the hell she was running away from.

 _The Doctor told you, idiot,_ she said to herself. _The Possibilities have the TARDIS land-locked, and trying to take off ruptured the casing on the dematerialization circuit. The time vortex aura is leaking out and it's poisonous. Don't breathe it._

Clara glanced back at the door and took a few more cautious steps away.

 _Hold on, though, where's the Doctor?_

 _It's not poisonous to Time Lords,_ her memory reminded her. _He told you that, remember?_

She laughed a bit, weakly. Right. Of course. When she'd woken up, the Doctor had been at the controls already, dealing with the problem like he always did.

"No, but wait," she said aloud, her voice falling flat in the empty corridor, "he's got extractor fans for that, hasn't he? Or something? Those doors don't seal, do they?"

 _Do they?_

 _How much of what I'm thinking is mine and how much is because of the Possibilities?_

The Doctor, she decided, was her anchor. She could trust this, now - what she was experiencing at that exact minute. The moment was what she could count on. And for the moment, she needed to find the Doctor.

With renewed determination, Clara turned around, planning to trace her route back. It was at that moment she realized she had no idea where she was.

"Close down some extra hallways, huh?" she muttered. "And I suppose by _extra_ you meant all of the ones I've ever been in."

Presumably, in trying to conserve power, the TARDIS had tightened itself in, compacting everything and changing the internal layout completely.

Cautiously, hoping for something that looked familiar, Clara walked back in what she believed to be the direction she had come from.

"Oh no. No no no." All that she found was an intersection of four identical and equally unfamiliar corridors. In her earlier desperation, she had already forgotten her series of turns, and she wasn't sure she trusted what memories she had.

 _Okay, calm down. You're overreacting. Just pick one._

With a breath and a prayer, Clara set off to the left, hoping to end up somewhere recognizable.

Where she ended up was a locked door and another corridor that led to an intersection of four, so similar to the first that it might have been the same one.

Breathing hard, Clara stared with wide, anxious eyes at her options. She'd gone left the first time… but which way had been left? Which corridor had she come through the first time?

Clara closed her eyes, forcing her mind backwards through the route she'd just taken. A left, another left, past the door, and then… Left or right? She could remember both.

 _If you remember something twice, ignore both ways,_ the Doctor had said. Not terribly helpful in this situation.

At least it confirmed her suspicions: her mind was definitely being tampered with.

"Alright," she said under her breath, "I'll play your game." She took one shoe off and set it in one of the doorways, then walked down that hall, her gait awkwardly uneven.

Unsurprisingly, she found herself back in the same room, her shoe sitting innocently across from her.

With a sigh, Clara took off her other shoe and set it in the doorway she'd just come through. Then she stopped. Should the shoe have gone in the one she came from or the one she was going to next?

Groaning, she realized she could remember it both ways.

"I've got to keep trying," she told herself, grabbing the shoes. They'd do her more good on her feet. "There's nothing else to do. I have to get the right one eventually."

Mustering up as much determination as she could, Clara set off down another path, losing herself in a maze of corridors.

* * *

The Doctor woke to find himself alone in a dark, hazy console room. He squeezed his hand, momentarily wondering what was wrong with it, then realized: he was on the ground, and it was empty.

"Clara? Clara!"

Immediately, he staggered to his feet, using the console edge to pull himself up. A quick glance around was enough to show Clara definitely missing.

Waving a hand in front of his face to clear the air, the Doctor decided that there was a limited amount of trouble Clara could get into within the TARDIS. So long as she could keep her memories straight…

No. The best plan now was to get off this damn planet.

The Doctor darted around the console, peering at monitors and twiddling dials. "What's wrong, old girl?" he murmured. And then, "Oh. Of course!"

He laughed, perhaps a little manic, and rubbed his hands together. "The Untempered Schism, _that's_ what they're using, that's what they're after! The bit they've each got, the swirls in their eyes, is calling to the TARDIS's power source. It's in their DNA. The magic in them is overriding my tech. Seniority." He sniffed. "Rubbish."

A jet of sparks flew from the console in response to his button-pressing, as if scolding him.

"They've each only got a tiny bit, but there's enough of them together that their combined pull is enough to keep me on the ground." He raised an eyebrow. "For now, anyway.

"The thing about magic, though," he added, "is that you really have to concentrate. You can't let anything distract you."

He grinned in dangerous delight. "Lucky for me, I'm amazing at distractions."

With unabashed glee, the Doctor dashed around the TARDIS, flashing lights, revving the engines, and even lobbing a series of small fireworks and a rubber chicken through the door.

"A bit lackluster," he admitted to himself, shrugging as he pressed his back to the door, feeling the slight impact of the explosions, "but I'm on short notice." He grinned dryly. "Clara would have loved this."

 _Now stop it,_ he told himself. _No point in dragging up old memories. It just hurts more. Clara's been dead for ages, it's time to move on._

"Right. Of course." With a touch more solemnity, the Doctor went back to the console, searching for some other unexpected distraction. "No. Wait. Hang on. Back up."

Stopping mid step, he put a hand to his head, sifting through his thoughts. Something wasn't right, something didn't click…

 _Clara's been dead for ages. Clara's been dead for ages. For ages. Dead?_

"Oh, very good," he said aloud, "very clever plan. I'm almost impressed."

A slight disturbance outside, a slight lessening in the hold on the TARDIS. The Doctor smiled grimly. Someone was listening.

"Clara's dead? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" He snorted. "Well, joke's on you, because I remember every bit of her coming here, _alive._ She's off somewhere in the TARDIS right now."

A tide of overwhelming grief, a feeling he was all too familiar with.

 _Give up,_ it seemed to say. _Give in. No matter what you do, you lose in the end. Save yourself the pain._

"As if," he snapped. "I've put way too much work into this life, I'm not going to lose it now."

 _Be broken, Doctor. Just once. For her._

"You think the death of one of my friends will break me?" he cried. "I fought in the Last Great Time War. I saw my comrades cut down, my family murdered. I watched planets burn by my hand. I heard the screams and saw the panic of mothers as their children burned to death, and I see the faces of people despising me, _blaming_ me, every time I close my eyes. And you think one more bad thing will break me?"

Images - memories - flashed through his mind: Clara dead, Clara dying, Clara broken, mangled, mauled. Over and over again.

"I have lost so many people I care about, in so many ways, and when I think about them it hurts so much I can't breathe, and yes, you're hurting me, and yes, of course I care. Of course I wish it would end." He was shouting now, raging, letting the grief and anger pour through him.

"Beaten, yes. Scarred, absolutely. Beyond help, maybe so, but I. Am. Not. _Broken!"_

In one fluid motion, the Doctor pulled out his sonic sunglasses, slipping them on and aiming straight up. He could feel the frequencies in the air around him, could sort out what belonged to what. In seconds, he had found the telepathic signal coming from the uncountable Possibilities.

"Reverse the polarity of the neutron flow," he muttered. "Hasn't failed me yet." And he tapped the side of the glasses.

As the familiar sonic sound filled the room, the Doctor brought to the surface all his losses, all his guilt and sorrow and rage. He traced every scar the centuries had left on his soul, feeling afresh the weight of time and the burden of lives that rested constantly on his shoulders. He held all of this for a moment, sinking to his knees under the weight.

Then, with a gasp, he let everything go, sending all the raw emotion back through the telepathic link to crash into the open minds of the Possibilities outside.

The result was utter chaos. The Possibilities, so unused to feeling individual pain, were completely overwhelmed. The link shattered in an instant, all concentration broken completely.

The Doctor wasted no time. Throwing himself at the console, he slammed down the leave for takeoff, sighing gently at the reassuring whirr of the engines. As the TARDIS began to dematerialize, he allowed himself to sink to the floor, his back against the console and his head in his hands, giving himself just a few moments to be broken.

* * *

 **A.N: Well that was fun. I was up way too late writing that, but I just couldn't stop. Happy New Year, all. It's my sister's birthday today, so greetings to her.**

 **A question for you all: do you actually read these? The author's notes, I mean. If so, what do you think? Are they useful? Interesting? Annoying? Do let me know, because I really have no idea. Honesty is appreciated. And if you wanted to leave a chapter review along with it, that would be fabulous...**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	11. Remember Me for Centuries

Clara could tell when something shifted. It was subtle but pervasive, like when someone opens a window in a nearby room. The fresh air, the chill, the noise from outside, filling the room in ways that are hard to pin down but impossible not to notice.

At first she believed the change was in the structure of the TARDIS. Her path was unchanged though, and when she found herself back in the same intersection for the seventy-third time, Clara realized that the open window wasn't in the TARDIS so much as in her mind.

"I remember," she said, laughing with relief. "I remember where I've been, oh my God, it's back. He's done it." She hesitated. "Whatever _it_ is."

Ultimately, Clara decided to shrug it off. Everything would be explained when she got back to the Doctor, or at least, most things. Enough things.

She sagged with relief at the sight of the door into the main console room. Pushing it open, she called out, "You've done it, then? Fought them off?"

"Yes, yes, they're all gone," he said, waving a hand. "Or we've gone, at least, which amounts to the same thing."

It took her a moment to find him, sitting against the console with his back to her. "So… we've taken off?"

"Yep. Land-lock is broken, TARDIS shields are back up, and we are currently floating in deep space, a million million miles away from any kind of planetary anything." He pulled himself to his feet, grinning at her. "Relaxing, isn't it?"

"Mmm." Her grin dying on her lips, Clara walked slowly into the room, one hand trailing lightly along the railing. "How'd you do it?"

"Distracted them."

"What, all of them at once?" She raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Not bad."

"Yes, well, I'm very clever. You should try it sometime."

Now the other eyebrow went up. "Oh, we're being insulting, are we?" Clara paused, eyeing him. "What happened that you're not telling me?"

"What? Nothing, nothing. I'm just very good at my job. See, that's the thing about magic," he added before she could speak, "it's all on the individual person. If you mess up, if you let emotion or feelings or fear get in the way, the whole thing falls to bits. With science, you've got other things to rely on, other constants. Things outside of personal faults."

"You're saying emotions are faults?" asked Clara sharply.

The Doctor shook her off. "I'm saying, Time Lords don't have to worry about any of that. All that… fiddly stuff, all the human-type stuff. Don't need it. Don't bother with it. It's all science and logic and cleverness."

His companion sniffed. "I'll believe that when I see it." There was something else, something he was still hiding, but she could tell there was no getting it out of him now. Better to move on. "So what next, then?"

He shrugged. "No idea. Go pick a star. Whatever you want."

The change of subject was noted, and, if the Doctor was honest with himself, greatly appreciated. The memories, _those_ memories, never fully disappeared, never properly faded. Twelve hundred years… It was easier, sometimes, to forget and push them away. Having everything brought up again, all at once… well, it didn't help much.

Still, though, he wouldn't trade them in for anything. Usually.

"What, just like that?" Clara asked, a little incredulous. "What about that mysterious woman, back on Nowhere? Who stole that little girl's power? You're just not going to do anything about it?"

"Not my problem." The Doctor held up his hands in an open shrug. "I haven't got a signal, haven't got any way to track her down, and to be honest, I'm not sure that mysterious woman ever existed in the first place."

"You think the King just made it up?" demanded Clara.

"I think she did it all herself," he answered, strangely calm. He walked past her, going to a different panel on the console.

"Why?"

The Doctor threw up his hands. "Because she knows she's stronger with others and you, Clara Oswald, are incredibly strong. Because she was bored and had too much coffee. I don't know."

"Yes you do. Why?" She was relentless.

There was a pause, then he sighed. "Because she can't be alone. Because no one on that planet can ever be alone, even when they have to be. Do you see the lengths people will go to just to feel like they belong?"

"But you're not sure," Clara pointed out.

"No," he agreed heavily, facing away from her. "I'm not."

Clara nodded, taking that in. "Is that why you keep us around?" she asked suddenly. "People like me, your companions. Because you know you're stronger with someone else?"

Now he turned to look at her, and his eyes were suddenly so old she took a step back. "Clara, my Clara. I keep you around because I can't bear to be alone, knowing what I'm missing."

She felt her breath catch, wondered how often in his long life he'd been alone. "Well, good thing I'm here, then, yeah?"

The Doctor glanced down, smiled. "Yeah. Good thing."

"And I'm not going to leave you," she added, pressing forward. "I'm not going to let you be alone."

He chuckled sadly. "Clara, when you've lived as long as I have, you learn not to make promises like that. You can't ever keep them, not how you'd like. When a promise like that gets broken…"

There was a pause, one so long she wasn't sure he was going to answer. "What?"

The Doctor's eyes were far off and unseeing, light years and centuries away. "It destroys you."

* * *

" _And just one mistake is all it will take_

 _To go down in history_

 _Remember me for centuries-"_

A fist slammed down on a button, shutting the music off abruptly. "Centuries," the owner of the fist muttered. "What do they know?"

"Self pity again?" The voice came from behind her, but she couldn't be bothered to turn around.

"Leave me alone, will you?"

"You used to love that song," her companion said, picking idly at the fraying ends of her dress. "You always said it reminded you how much potential there was in a single life."

The woman sniffed. "Back on Earth. That was a century or two ago itself, wasn't it? Back when I had a single life." She shook her head. "Who am I kidding? I've never had one single life. I've been living a double life since before I was born."

Staring out the window at the endless panorama of stars, she added, "It might have been encouraging once, but now it feels more like a warning. Like I'm being scolded. What have I done with my life? What mistakes have I made, am I making?" She paused. "Who will remember me?"

"Who, indeed," the other woman murmured. Her eyes flashed a brilliant gold. "Who, indeed."

* * *

 **A.N: Muahaha. Do I have your attention yet? Good. Guys, we're like a quarter of the way there! I've unofficially split this story into four parts, and this concludes the first one. I wrote this in one night, which hasn't happened in a while. I finally got access to watching Doctor Who again, and I didn't realize how much I'd missed it. Very motivational. Thanks all for reading, and a Happy New Year!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	12. A Summons

Clara shut her book with a sigh. She was getting bored - and on the TARDIS, that never happened. But somehow the Doctor seemed content to just putter about the stars, watching supernovae explode backwards. As fascinating and incredible as that was, Clara was ready to do something.

So it almost came as a relief when the life-sized hologram appeared in the middle of the console demanding their attention.

"What the hell is that?" she exclaimed, scrambling away. The figure had appeared mere inches away from her.

"Not what, who," the Doctor corrected her, leaving his monitor. "That's a Time Lord. One of the High Council members."

The man in the hologram turned majestically to face the Doctor, his robes swirling behind him. "Doctor."

"You mean…" Clara was in shock. "You mean that's from Gallifrey? So Gallifrey's still around? But I thought it was destroyed!"

"It's around, yes." The Doctor slipped on his sonic sunglasses. "And it was destroyed. Just like the planet of the Possibilities."

"What? But-" But the Doctor held up a hand, cutting her off. The hologram was speaking again.

"Doctor. Your presence is required."

"Yeah, well, isn't it always?" he muttered. He went to the console and pressed a button to allow communication. "For what?"

"There has been a theft. You are suspected."

"A theft?" he repeated. "What, this old thing?" He pointed up at the spinning top of the TARDIS. "I've fully confessed to that already, no need to bring me in."

"You flatter yourself." The Time Lord's voice was thick with disdain. "You will come."

"I'll see if I can fit it in," the Doctor said noncommittally. "Might be able to squeeze it in next week after brunch with the Archbishop of the Belwyn Conglomerate-"

His sentence was cut off as the hologram frowned, then flickered. Clara flung out a hand as the TARDIS rocked violently, sparks flying from the console. The Doctor winced, as if he could feel his machine's pain.

"You will come, Doctor. Immediately." With a last shower of sparks, the hologram disappeared.

Clara blew out her breath, pushing herself off the railing and back to her feet. "Wow. That was…"

"A bag of cheap tricks?" the Doctor finished grimly, dashing immediately to the console to check for damage.

"I was thinking… impressive."

The Doctor sniffed. "Time Lords. They're all lights and smoke and fancy posing. Just a facade."

It took physically biting her own lip for Clara to stop herself from making a comment about pots and kettles. "So are we going, then?"

"Of course. Someone stole something big enough that they hijack my TARDIS, and they think I'm not going to stick my nose in it?" He flashed her a grin. "They didn't need the threats. The curiosity would have been enough."

"So, hang on. Gallifrey, though," Clara said, holding up a hand. "If it was destroyed in the Time War, or sent away or whatever you did to it, how are they sending you…" She gestured helplessly at where the holographic Time Lord had been. "...video chats?"

"Something's happened to time," he told her. "Something big, really big. It's like…" He paused for a minute, searching for a metaphor. "Ever sewn over a wrinkle so the fabric folds in on itself?"

Clara raised an eyebrow. "No? I buy my clothes, like a normal person. Have you?"

"Not in centuries. I was young once. I learned." He winked, then quickly turned serious again. "That's what happened, only to the fabric of time. Something's folded it in on itself in a way it was never meant to be and stitched it all together. But it's unraveling."

"Unraveling?" Clara frowned. "The stitching or the fabric?"

"I don't know." A shudder ran through his body, like he was trying to shake something off. "I can't isolate it. But it itches. The Time Lords will know, though," he added, "if anyone does."

"So we're going to see them?"

"We're going to see them." He grinned and went back to his controls. Clara noticed, though, that he avoided the main lever.

"How, though?" she asked, following him around the console. "Just plug in the coordinates and off we go?"

The Doctor shook his head, pulling over a monitor. "Not quite. We're in the middle of a war," he elaborated when she looked at him. "If I'm right, the Time War is still going on, right now, and that means Gallifrey is in full battle armour."

"So you can't just materialize?"

"What? No. We've got to get through the transduction barrier."

"I assume you're going to explain that," Clara said, propping a hand on her hip.

"The transduction barrier keeps Gallifrey slightly out of phase with the rest of the universe. Makes it more difficult to find. It also expels anything deemed foreign, anything that the higher-ups don't think belongs. It's basically border control, but for a planet," he added at her confusion.

"And they won't just let you through?" she asked. "That's your home."

With a sad sort of half smile, the Doctor said, "They don't think so, not anymore. And you can't just get a permit or something, either. Too many loopholes. Too many Stymphos lizards masquerading as people. You have to get recognized by the patrols, have to physically go in close enough for the battle TARDISes to scan you."

"Hang on, battle TARDISes?"

He grimaced. "You'll see, don't worry."

"Yeah, okay." That didn't sound good. "So just fly up to the… barrier, and get recognized, then," Clara suggested, though she knew there was still a catch coming. If it had been that easy, he'd have done it already.

"Simple enough, yeah, except for the billion billion Dalek ships surrounding the planet."

"Daleks? What- Oh." She nodded, realizing. "Time War."

"Time War," the Doctor agreed, flying around the console flipping switches and pushing buttons. "It has been a while. I guess I'm due."

"So, what then, sneak around the side?" Clara asked.

"Around an entire Dalek army?" He grinned. "Absolutely."

He ran around the console, tripping one last switch with a flourish. "I've shut off all unnecessary systems and turned on every cloaking device I've got. Even dumped the penny arcade."

Clara blinked. "Penny arcade?"

"Too noisy, too flashy. I'll beat you at pinball later if you like. I absolutely destroyed Christopher Marlowe. He got a lot better the second time, though."

"You _what?"_

"Later. We've just got to get in close enough that the Time Lord sensors just got to get in close enough that the Gallifreyan sensors will register my TARDIS as familiar."

"Okay. Then what?"

"Then we hope nobody kills us. Sound good?"

Clara grinned, getting a good grip on the edge of the console. "Sounds great."

"Okay then." With one hand on the lever, he looked back at her, just as excited as she was. "Here we go." And he pulled the lever down.

* * *

 **A.N: Hello from London! I still sort of can't believe I'm here. It's all been a bit surreal. That's the reason it's been so long since I posted - I've been majorly busy seeing as much of the art scene as this incredible city has to offer. No promises on when the next one will be up. London fans - any recommendations? Nerdy things I should see while I'm here? I have until next Saturday.**

 **For anyone worrying that you didn't get the full answers you wanted for this last chunk, stop. My longtime fans will know that no matter how complicated a plot may seem and no matter how many loose ends are dangling around, everything gets wrapped up in the end. It'll be a while, but it'll be worth it. I promise.**

 **Thank you all very much for putting up with my absences. I shall try to get things in slightly better shape the next few weeks. Do tell me your guesses about the mysterious woman on Nowhere. Was she real? Who is she? What does she want? I can't wait to hear what you're thinking.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	13. Dalek Ships

Clara braced herself, waiting for the rocking and shaping that usually came with unusual TARDIS travel, but none of it came. In fact, the TARDIS was remarkably still. If it weren't for the centerpiece churning up and down, she wouldn't have believed they were moving at all.

"Doctor?" She released the console slowly, still half-expecting to be thrown off her feet. "What's going on?"

"I told you," he said, faintly smug, "cloaking devices. Only a ship with Gallifreyan tech could find us now. Unless we actually bumped into something," he added.

"Is that likely?" Clara asked, not sure if she should be alarmed.

He shrugged. "Probably not. Not as long as we're watching _this._ " Pulling over a monitor, the Doctor keyed in a few commands and brought up what looked like a galactic map. Stars with names in languages Clara couldn't read covered the screen. With a few more buttons, the map zoomed in, focusing on a planet Clara soon realized was Gallifrey.

The planet itself was a glowing orange ball, rapidly growing in the center of the screen. As the perspective zoomed in, hundreds of glowing red dots appeared, forming a full ring around the planet, with one pulsing blue one fast approaching. That one had to be the TARDIS, which made the red ones…

"Dalek ships? All of those are Dalek ships?"

"Every single one." His expression grim, the Doctor tapped a few keys, delicately moving the blue dot out of the way."

"And you're certain they can't see us?" she persisted. The sheer number of enemy ships was mind-boggling. Somehow she didn't see how one planet could stand a chance in the middle of all that, no matter how much technology they had.

"Absolutely positive," he told her, concentrating hard. "As long as we get through, we'll be just fine. Now, some quiet, please."

The next few minutes were tense. The Doctor kept his eyes fixed on the screen, fingers lightly tapping a key here and there to keep them on track. Clara stood just behind him, trying not to breathe too loudly. Everything was perfectly still and perfectly in control.

So it came as a major shock when the TARDIS suddenly lurched to one side, throwing them both into the console.

"What's that? What's happening?" Clara cried, trying not to groan aloud as the hard edge sank into her gut.

"Something's overriding my controls," the Doctor explained, scrambling to regain command. "It's pulling us off course. Almost like a magnet." He ducked as a shower of sparks flew from the console. "She's not happy about it."

"Can't you stop it?" demanded Clara, grabbing the edge of the console. "This has happened before, hasn't it? Back when we had Mystery around, with the Judoon?"

"Yes, but this is different," he said impatiently. "Different tech. I've never seen anything like it," he added, running a quick scan on the signal. "It's like someone took bits of technology from different races all over the universe and cobbled it together. It's not meant to be."

"And it's got hold of us? How?"

"There's… yes, there's Gallifreyan in here," said the Doctor, worry lines creasing his brow, "just a bit. Just enough. I'm going to trace it back," he added, punching in a few more commands. "If we can see where it's coming from, we can get some idea of where we're headed."

"Trace it?" Clara asked, alarmed. "Won't that lead straight back to us?"

"Bit late for that," he said dryly. "Look." He swung over the monitor to show her.

Their blue dot was being pulled sharply to the left, seeming to pass over other dots on the screen. "We're going through the other ships," the Doctor explained, seeing Clara's confusion. "Temporarily dematerializing at exactly the right moments so we don't occupy their space. It's brilliant, really," he admitted.

"But where are we going?" Clara asked, feeling that their destination was slightly more important than the impressiveness of the technology.

"Yes, okay." With a few more buttons and a whirly lever, the screen moved again, zooming in on one red light. As it got closer, the dots began to resolve into shapes, shapes all too familiar to the Time Lord watching. The signal, however, led to one much smaller ship on the outer edge of the ring. Compared to the others, it was less than impressive.

"That's what's doing this," Clara said, leaning back slightly. "That little one?"

He nodded, concentrating. "I'm trying to block it, or at least identify it, but it's…" He shook his head. "Whoever's on the other side of this… they know me. Or they know how I work. Everything I do, they anticipate."

"Well, you've been fighting Daleks for forever, right?" Clara suggested, trying to be reasonable. "Maybe they've caught wise?"

"This feels personal," he said slowly, hunched over the screen. "Whoever this is, _whatever_ this is, has something against me."

"And you don't think it's Daleks."

The Doctor hesitated, then sighed. "Not just Daleks, at least. It's… Dalek plus. Just like this signal. Dalek at heart, but modified."

"Modified," Clara repeated. "What does that mean?"

"For us?" He glanced up at us. "Trouble. Lots and lots of trouble." Then, with a grin, "Ready?"

In spite of the situation, Clara felt an identical grin creep onto her face. The uncertainty, the danger, the adventure… that was the Doctor, through and through. "Absolutely."

"Right then. Hold on." With one hand, he released the brakes and turned off all resistance, then grabbed the console tightly. On screen, the blue dot took off, more than doubling in speed.

"Look," the Doctor shouted, nodding to the monitor. Even with the sudden drop in resistance, the signal still kept them dematerializing at exactly the right times. "We're definitely expected. It's almost like they know the future. They know what I'm going to do before I do."

"Odd," Clara agreed, but privately, her thoughts were different. _It's like they know him better than he knows himself. They've studied him. But who are they?_

"We're landing!" Grinning like a kid on a roller coaster, the Doctor punched a few controls. "Get ready!" And with a _boom_ and a lurch that nearly threw them to the floor, they had arrived.

Breathless, laughing, Clara straightened up, brushing herself off. "Okay, so we're here. Now what?"

The Doctor offered her his arm with a smile. "Now we go out."

"Huh." Clara raised an eyebrow. "You know, if we hadn't just landed on an enemy ship, that would almost be sweet." She nodded to the door. "After you."

"How kind." Brushing past her, the Doctor went to the door, Clara just behind him, and pulled it open.

Both time travelers instantly recoiled: they were met by a blinding burst of light - the sight of dozens of Dalek bolts ricocheting off a force field.

"EXTERMINATE!"

* * *

 **A.N: Aww, I missed Daleks. You have to love Daleks. Hello (still) from London! This weekend was much quieter and I ended up having a reasonable amount of time to write, so here we are. Back in the thick of things. If you've read the other two Mystery Girl stories (and by now I really hope you have?) you'll know that I don't like to just wander between storylines, so let's jump in and do this! I'm enjoying my foreshadowing a bit too much - did you pick up on it?**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	14. Their Leader

"Daleks!" the Doctor cried, beaming and spreading his arms wise. "Good to see you. How long has it been? That was a serious question, by the way," he added. "I really would like to know."

"THE DOCTOR HAS ARRIVED," blared one Dalek. It was unusually large and seemed to be the leader of the group.

"Yeah, got that, thanks," he said irritably. "Why? What do you want?"

"WE WANT YOUR PRESENCE."

"Typical Daleks," muttered the Doctor to Clara. "Can't ever get a straight answer out of them, they're all alike."

But they weren't all alike, the pair realized suddenly. They had landed in what looked like the main belly of the ship, and the entirety of it was full of Daleks. Unlike most Dalek armies, though, each one here was slightly different. Some were more colorful, some taller, thicker, more rusted. Indeed, a majority of these Daleks were damaged in some way.

"They don't match," Clara murmured, sweeping her gaze across the room. "Oh, that's going to bug me. Hold on- Doctor!"

She grabbed his arm, pulling him back from the edge of the force field as he started to step through. "They'll shoot you!" she hissed.

"Maybe," he said lightly, shrugging her off, "but I doubt it. They 'want our presence,' remember?" His grin was not entirely reassuring. "I strongly suspect that first blast was just a light show meant to scare us." He took her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "Let's not be scared."

Clara sighed. "If you say so." But she still hesitated a bit before stepping out after him.

The Doctor, on the other hand, strode forward into the mass, slipping on his sonic sunglasses and examining Daleks at random. The Daleks swiveled to follow him around the room, something uneasy in their movements, but his guess was right: no shots were fired.

"So what's the plan, then?" Clara whispered, keeping tight to his back. "Destroy them?"

After a moment's hesitation, the Doctor shook his head. "Not today. This… isn't my fight. Not this me." He paused for a beat, remembering, but soon jumped back to his usually erratic self. "Now this is curious."

"What's curious?" she asked, but he had moved on, speaking to the Daleks themselves now.

"Look at you lot, you're falling apart!" he exclaimed. "Pulled in from all over time. What, couldn't get a matched set?" He knocked one Dalek's head, smiling grimly at the hollow thuds. "Couldn't even get some that work properly? I'm not impressed." He glanced back at Clara. "Okay, I'm a little impressed."

"All over time?" Clara repeated, following behind him. Something about these Daleks made her nervous - they were different somehow. It was unsettling.

"Daleks change over time," he explained, leaning in to peer into one Dalek's eyestalk. "Upgrade themselves, improve themselves. They want to be the ultimate battle machines, and they're well on their way. But these are models from all along the development line. They weren't meant to be together."

"Sounds a bit star-crossed," Clara remarked, crossing her arms.

"Mmm. And look at this ship." He pointed to the ceiling. "Again, older model. It's been repaired, but poorly." Peering up at a rough metal patch, he added, "Did it crash?"

The first Dalek seemed to bristle a bit. "THIS INFORMATION IS IRRELEVANT."

"So it's important, then," Clara said, glancing at the Doctor.

"THIS INFORMATION IS-"

"Oh, shut up!" shouted the Doctor. "All of you, shut up or stay shut up or whatever, just don't make a sound."

An uneasy silence fell across the room. Even Clara pressed her lips together deliberately, staring around with wide eyes. She assumed that by now the Doctor had a plan. _I just wish I knew what it was._

"What are you doing here, eh?" the Time Lord asked, hands in his pockets. "The misfits of the universe. How did you get here? Who brought you here? More importantly, who brought me here? Why? Where did you get the tech?"

The room stayed quiet, a Dalek here and there whirring slightly.

"I want to get out of here and be on my way," he said, irritated, "and you clearly want _something_ , you always do. Might as well just tell me so we can get on with it." Frustration growing, the Doctor pointed to a specific Dalek, a shorter, flatter one near the back. "You. Un-shut up. Answer me."

The Dalek shifted uncomfortably, spinning its head to look at its comrades, but the Doctor grabbed its eyestalk, forcing it to meet his gaze. "What, nervous? Scared to give me an answer? EXPLAAIINN!" he roared, mimicking their distinctive speech.

"WE WERE ABANDONED IN BATTLE," the Dalek blared, galvanized into speech. "LOST. DAMAGED. CAPTURED."

"UNFIT FOR BATTLE," another added. "NOT USEFUL TO OUR KIND."

"How'd you get here, then?" Clara asked. "If you're all broken, how'd you get a ship?"

"THE EMPRESS," their informant told them. "THE GREATEST OF THE DALEKS." Echoes rang around the room as other Daleks added their voices. "THE EMPRESS. GREATEST OF THE DALEKS."

"Empress!" The Doctor rocked back on his heels, astonished. "Empress? Hear that Clara, they've got genders now. Genders in a Dalek, what will they think of next?" He glanced over at his companion. "Feels a bit unnatural, doesn't it?"

"THE EMPRESS IS OUR SAVIOUR," a Dalek volunteered. "SHE HAS BROUGHT US TOGETHER. SHE HAS GIVEN US PURPOSE. SHE HAS GIVEN US WAR."

"War, what war?" Clara stepped forward, pressing for an answer. "You mean the Time War?"

"THE WAR AGAINST YOU, DOCTOORRR!"

Instinctively, Clara closed her eyes, not wanting to see the blast she felt certain was coming. But the room stayed quiet, and she slowly looked up to see the Doctor standing slightly too still, staring the Dalek down.

"Don't know why I'm surprised anymore," he muttered. "I see. So this Empress has been rounding you all up, repairing you, so you can go after me. I mean, it makes sense," he added, sweeping into his usual gregarious self. "Take me out and the battle is yours. I've been through this already, I know how this goes. You get the tools and the tech and the knowledge to get me." He sniffed. "Good deal."

"WE WILL WIN GLORY," a Dalek cried. "WE WILL MAKE THEM REGRET ABANDONING US."

"WE WILL HAVE PURPOSE AGAIN," another added. "WE WILL HAVE USE."

"Oh, that's nice, that's lovely." The Doctor spread his arms wide, beaming bitterly. "The kind and benevolent ruler of the Daleks, gathering up the lost souls of the universe. What do you say, Clara, should we say hello?"

Clara shrugged, not sure exactly where he was leading but willing to go along. "We've already met a king. I figure an empress has to be a step up."

"Right then." The Doctor turned back to the first Dalek, who seemed to lead the group. "You've got us here." He grinned. "Take me to your leader."

* * *

 **A.N: Hello, all. It's my last day in London and I'm upset about it. Be nice and cheer me up? I am ready to go home for a lot of reasons, but man. London, you know?**

 **Anyway, I'm having fun with Daleks. Didn't realize I missed Daleks. I sort of have a love-hate relationship with them. Much like the writers of the show, I think. Ah well. I'm exhausted. Thanks again for reading, my dears. I appreciate it so much.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	15. THE EMPRESS

All around the room, the Daleks began to move, rearranging themselves to form a kind of corridor. The Doctor glanced at Clara, shrugging slightly, then took her hand. Together they walked where they were guided.

The Daleks' excitement was palpable in the room, and it made Clara nervous. As a general rule, she didn't like it when things that were trying to kill her were happy. Involuntarily, she squeezed the Doctor's hand a little tighter.

The makeshift hallway led to an actual one, stark and bare, with rough metal patches. It almost looked as though the entire corridor was different, like the vessel was made of parts of multiple ships, hurriedly cobbled together.

"Doctor, are you sure about this?" Clara whispered. Surely he could sense the weirdness going on? But if he heard her, he didn't respond.

At last, the hallway ended in a shut door, guarded by yet another pair of Daleks. No words passed between the sentries and their escorts, but the doors slid open, and Clara and the Doctor were ushered inside.

"BEHOLD," the lead Dalek blared, a note of triumph in its tinny voice. "OUR EMPRESS."

At first glance, the room seemed empty, of Daleks, at least. One wall especially was covered in sleek black machinery, much better taken care of than the rest of the ship. It was until the thing spoke that Clara realized what she had mistaken for a wall was, in fact, the Empress.

"DOCTOR. CLARA OSWALD. WELCOME."

The Empress's voice boomed around the room, the vibration so loud and so strong Clara could feel it in her bones. Lights around the top of the curved sheet of metal now recognizable as the head were the only indication of where the deafening speech originated from.

"Female, Clara," the Doctor hissed, eyes wide. "Listen. The voice sounds female."

The timbre of the Dalek Empress's voice was certainly different from the rest of the species. "Probably just a modulator?" Clara offered. "I mean, that's not their real voice, is it?"

"Well yes, but _why_?"

Clara crossed her arms. "Look at you, all excited. Got a puzzle again."

Dropping her hand with a grin, the Doctor darted forward, reaching out to touch the Empress's sleek metal body, but before he could, every Dalek gun in the room was instantly trained on him.

"DO NOT TOUCH OUR EMPRESS. DO NOT APPROACH OUR EMPRESS. DO NOT TOUCH. DO NOT TOUCH."

The Doctor backed away, hands raised. "Got the message," he murmured.

"DOCTOR. YOU ARE TOO FORWARD. YOU FORGET YOUR PLACE," the Empress thundered.

"Always did have problems with that," he replied cheerfully. "Although, I'll admit to being a bit confused here. Sorry, I'm slow, I know, but… Dalek royalty?" His tone was one of quiet incredulity. "That's got to be new."

"THE EMPRESS SAVED US," a Dalek informed him. "WE OWE OUR EXISTENCE TO THE EMPRESS. THE EMPRESS MUST BE PROTECTED."

"THE EMPRESS WILL BRING US GLORY," another added. "WE WILL FIND REDEMPTION AMONG OUR KIND."

"Purpose, glory, yes, you said," the Doctor said, brushing them aside, "but that's not very Dalek, is it? Wanting for yourself, exalting one specific Dalek for no good reason? You're all about the 'greater good.' Whatever you have to do to win, it's worth it. A few sacrifices, a little abandonment, that's nothing to a Dalek. You lot are the most human Daleks I've ever seen."

There was a physical recoil from every assembled Dalek. Even the immobile Empress shuddered a bit.

"I wouldn't call that 'a _little_ abandonment,' Doctor," Clara put in quietly. "They were left for dead, and nobody ever bothered to look for them." She glanced at the massive form of the Empress. "Until somebody did. Somebody gave them hope and showed them a little bit of mercy. That's not _nothing_ to anyone. Wouldn't you feel the same?"

The Doctor was silent for a long moment, his lips moving slightly, a million miles in the past. Then, just as quickly, he snapped back. "Clara, you're right. I would. And I'd be really, really angry with the people who'd abandoned me. Much too angry to be helping them win a war. I wouldn't want to prove myself." He turned to face the Empress. "I'd want revenge."

 _He doesn't mean it,_ Clara thought, watching his face carefully. _He's not the vengeful type._ Then, after a pause, _I don't think._

"You lot are the living embodiments of hate," the Doctor continued, spreading his arms wide to include all the Daleks in the room. "It's what your built of, what you feed on. And what do you do with it?"

"WE WILL DESTROY THE TIME LORDS," one Dalek towards the back cried, and was instantly hushed by its neighbors. The Doctor heard him, of course, and spun to face.

"Destroy the Time Lords. Exactly. But why?"

"THEY HAVE FOUGHT AS WE HAVE," another Dalek blared. "THEY WILL DIE AS WE HAVE NOT."

"Ah, but that's just it." He raised a finger. "Those billion billion Dalek ships down there, whizzing around that planet, they all had a choice. Every one of you came here to fight. Those people down there, they're just trying to live." He leaned forward, lowering his voice. " _Why not go after the ones who actually did something to you?"_

There was a long, uncomfortable silences, as the assembled Daleks appeared to consider the Doctor's point. Though it was hard to read emotions in a Dalek, she thought they seemed unsure.

Unsure, that is until the Empress spoke up.

"YOU ARE CORRECT, DOCTOR."

"Am I? Really? That's lucky." The Doctor glanced over at Clara, shrugging slightly.

"GREATER GUILT CAN BE ASSIGNED TO OUR OWN PEOPLE. THEY HAVE CAST US OUT AND TURNED AGAINST US." There was a pause, then, "BUT SO HAVE YOURS."

"Oh, no, I left," he informed the Empress. "Big difference. And they're just grumpy."

"AND WOULD THEY WELCOME YOU BACK, WERE YOU TO RETURN?"

The Doctor laughed. "Tell you what, we're on our way there. Let us go, and you'll be the first one to know."

"Hold on," Clara said suddenly, noticing movement in the corner of the room. "Doctor, what's that? That- machine thing?"

A pair of Daleks were guiding in a large chair. One side had a panel with a lump Clara recognized as being designed for a Dalek to interact with. The entire chair was composed of the same sleek black metal as the body of the Empress, with restraints on the arms and back. It was clearly built for a humanoid.

The most notable thing, however, was the metallic hood extending from the back of the chair, a dome reminding Clara vividly of old sci fi movies she'd seen as a child. Several tubes extended out of it, filled with a blue-green liquid. It promised nothing good.

"YOU CANNOT SEE HOW YOU HAVE BEEN WRONGED, DOCTOR," the Empress boomed. "YOU ARE TOO SENTIMENTAL. DALEKS DO NOT HAVE THIS PROBLEM."

The lights on the chair began to flicker, gaining speed. A low hum filled the air.

"SOON, DOCTOR, YOU WILL NOT EITHER. SOON YOU WILL THINK AS WE DO."

* * *

 **A.N: Evil plans! I love evil plans. But are they really evil? What is evil anyway? Does anybody actually care? Probably not, so I'll move on. Hi! Welcome back! Confession: this evil plan was a last minute addition. I was looking over my massive outline and suddenly realized this part seemed really short. Therefore, plot twist. It will be important, though. I don't just throw things in for the heck of it. You know me better than that.**

 **London was amazing, thanks for asking. No, I didn't meet anyone famous, but that's okay. I had my mind blown often enough as it is. And my accent has improved tremendously. I do have this entire week off now before starting school again, so I have no excuse not to write. Feel free to chew me out if I haven't posted another chapter by Monday. I will justly deserve it.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	16. The Doctor Dalek

"What are you talking about?" Clara demanded as several Daleks turned to face her, something distinctly threatening in their manner. "What is that thing?"

Ignoring the many threats, the Doctor ran over, slipping on his sonic sunglasses and peering at the liquid in the tubes. "Gene suppressant," he explained, frowning. "Designed to remove all kindness and mercy and love. It makes you think like a Dalek."

He reached up to adjust the glasses and found them suddenly blown out of his hand by a bolt of Dalek energy. They skittered across the room, fetching up against a wall, smoking slightly. Clearly, he wouldn't be tampering with the machine.

"If you think I'm getting in that chair, you've been rusting too long," the Doctor informed them sharply, shaking his singed hand. "Clara, let's go."

"Love to, Doctor," she said brightly. "Just one thing."

"Hmm?" He glanced back over his shoulder and noticed for the first time that Clara was completely surrounded by Dalek guns. "Ah. Oh."

"YOU WILL NOT GO," one Dalek blared, focused on Clara. "YOU WILL SUBMIT."

"Or what?" the Doctor asked, though he was fairly certain he knew.

"OR YOUR COMPANION DIES."

"Figures," he muttered. "Ah well. It was worth a shot."

"Doctor, whatever you're thinking of doing, don't," Clara said, holding out a hand in warning. "That's an entire planet down there. Your planet, _your people._ If they hijack your mind-"

The Doctor nodded. "They'll have everything. Knowledge of the barriers, weapons, strategies. Most importantly, that spark of ingenuity that means I win every time. Isn't that right?" he roared suddenly, kicking a nearby Dalek in frustration.

"WE WILL BE UNDEFEATABLE," the Empress asserted. "OUR BIGGEST ENEMY WILL BECOME OUR BIGGEST ASSET."

"Oh, that's the goal, isn't it?" the Doctor said bitterly. "Enslaving the nightmare. Well, good on you, then."

"Doctor, you can't possibly-"

"I can do whatever I want!" The Doctor cut his companion off mid-sentence. "I am a Time Lord of the planet Gallifrey. I have lived and survived for centuries. I eat monsters like you for breakfast, so trust me when I say, there is _nothing_ that can hold me back!"

His words rang around the room, but something about them fell flat. Clara felt as though there was something coming, some hole in his bravado. And then, looking at the circle of Daleks around her, she realized uncomfortably what it was.

"Go on, then, say it. You know you want to." Rubbing his eyes, the Doctor turned away from the Empress, knowing what was coming.

"HUMAN COMPANIONS ARE SO FRAGILE, DOCTOR. SO WEAK. THEY WILL BE YOUR UNDOING." There was none of the triumphant glee Clara had expected to find in the massive Dalek's tone. Rather, the robotic voice seemed contemplative, as though merely making an observation. "ARE THEY REALLY WORTH THE PAIN?"

Clara held her breath. She wasn't sure what she hoped the answer would be. Of course, her vanity wanted him to say _Yes, I wouldn't trade a second._ But in her heart she knew the Dalek was probably right. Having a human follow him around was often more of a hindrance than a help. Particularly in situations like these.

"SIT, DOCTOR," a Dalek cried. "SUBMIT!"

The Doctor didn't move. "I need your full assurance that you will let her go," he demanded. "Clara must not be harmed."

"YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO MAKE DEMANDS," another Dalek informed him, a trifle smug. "SOON SHE WILL MEAN NOTHING."

" _She must not be harmed!"_ he roared, bending over to stare the offending Dalek right in its mechanical blue eye. " _Am I understood?"_

"WE HAVE NO QUARREL WITH CLARA OSWALD," the Empress said suddenly. The Doctor spun around, eyebrows raised. "SHE WILL BE RELEASED. IF YOU COOPERATE."

He hesitated, unsure whether to believe the Dalek leader's word, but decided he had little other choice. "Fine then."

"Doctor!" Even though she knew he would never change his mind, Clara couldn't stop herself from protesting.

"Clara. Look at me." He held her gaze as he slowly settled himself into the metal chair. "Soon as you can, get to the TARDIS. Emergency Program 1, it'll take you right home. Don't be a hero, understand? If I really am turned against you-"

Clara nodded, but had to add, "What about you?"

"Don't worry about me." His face was as serious as she'd ever seen it. About to protest again, Clara stopped, mouth open, as one of the Doctor's eyelids fluttered in the tiniest of winks.

 _He's got a plan,_ she thought, relaxing just a bit. _Or at least, he wants me to think he does._ She remembered what he had said earlier: _That spark of ingenuity that means he wins every time. I'll choose to believe it._ Eyeing the Daleks around her, she added, _For now, at least._

Satisfied their exchange had finished and Clara understood, the Doctor nodded to the Dalek standing to one side of the chair. Whirring excitedly, it fit its suction cup to the knob on the side, clearly interfacing with the chair's mechanics.

Instantly, the restraints on the arms and back snapped around, locking him in place and preventing the captive Doctor from struggling. The hood slowly lowered, and Clara saw him wince as tiny electrodes attached themselves to his forehead. The greenish liquid in the tubes began to flow through the tubes and into his skull through tiny needles contained in the electrodes. His eyes closed, and his head began to droop. Soon the Time Lord was hanging limp in the chair, held up only by the restraints.

On one wall - the wall not covered by the Empress - a screen lit up, showing a scan of a brain. Her heart sinking, Clara watched her friend's brain activity slowly decrease, going from manic, random spikes to slower, more regular waves. Then, suddenly, spikes again, but measured and regular. Too regular.

"IT IS TAKING EFFECT," the Dalek manning the screen reported with undisguised glee. "HE WILL AWAKEN SOON."

"HE WILL BE A GOOD SOLDIER," the Empress commented, sounding much more reserved. "A GOOD DALEK. THERE IS SO MUCH ANGER. SO MUCH HATE."

"Lucky for you."

The Doctor shook his head slightly to clear it, then looked up. Clara put a hand up to her mouth to stop a gasp. His normally blue eyes looked almost grey, and completely devoid of all emotion. Where there once had been a bombastic, expressive, ridiculous man was now flat and empty: a Dalek in a Time Lord's body.

His gaze swept around the room, cold and calculating. He glanced at Clara without interest, focusing instead on the Empress and the screen to the side. If he recognized the brain as his own, he didn't show it.

"DOCTOR. WELCOME BACK." If Daleks could smile, the Empress would be. "HOW ARE YOU?"

"Ready." His voice was level, measured. Cold.

A ripple of excitement went through the room. Clara bit her lip. It killed her to see her friend like this.

"READY?" the Empress asked. "TO DO WHAT?"

The Doctor's answer sent chills down Clara's spine.

"Exterminate."

* * *

 **A.N: Hey guys. Today was the Monday to end all Mondays and I'm stressed and not having a good time. And it's day one of this semester. Cheer me up, maybe? Tell me I got you on this plot twist. The Doctor as a Dalek. You know this can't be good. You'll just have to wait and see.**

 **This story is very close to 2,000 views, which is exciting, albeit a bit disappointing. It kind of sucks that this one is so much less popular than the first Mystery Girl when I'm much prouder of this one, but I suppose that is the nature of sequels. What do you guys think? Did you like Mystery Girl more than this one? Help me understand. I'm terribly grateful to have all of you, though. Don't ever forget that.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	17. The Doctor's Control

"ALL HAIL OUR EMPRESS," a Dalek cried. "SHE HAS BROUGHT US THE DOCTOR. VICTORY IS ASSURED."

"HAIL." Identical Dalek voices rang through the room, the lights on their heads reflecting off the dark metal walls. "HAIL."

The sound made Clara sick to her stomach.

"DOCTOR," the Empress commanded, "GO TO THE CONTROLS."

Obediently, the Doctor strode over to the screen, resting his hands on the controls with the confidence only long practice can bring. Clara noticed suddenly that the many buttons and levers were designed for hands - no Dalek could fully command this ship. How long had they been anticipating this?

At his first touch, the panel lit up, presenting itself for full use. The Doctor hit a few buttons, then frowned. "Your systems are inefficient. A recalibration is in order." His voice was still flat, still dull. It sounded more like he was trying to help than point out a flaw.

 _How does he know how to use all that? Was there more in that serum than just gene suppressant?_ Clara wondered. _Or was the Doctor simply so used to working with strange controls at a moment's notice that it no longer fazed him?_

 _Was this what the Doctor was like without the part that made him the Doctor?_ She could see now why the Daleks called him The Oncoming Storm.

"IT IS A TRICK," one Dalek said suddenly. It was the Dalek who had first greeted them when they landed. "OUR SYSTEMS ARE FULLY FUNCTIONAL. HE WILL GAIN ACCESS AND DESTROY US."

"SILENCE!" boomed the Empress, her voice louder than they had heard it yet. Several Daleks jolted, as if their systems were overloading. "NO RECALIBRATIONS ARE NECESSARY." There was a pause of consideration. "HE WILL BE TESTED."

The on-screen image of the Doctor's brain vanished, replaced with a map similar to the one the Doctor had pulled up on the TARDIS monitor not all that long ago. The range of this was much closer, though, showing only the Dalek ships immediately between their current location and Gallifrey below. On top of that, more dots appeared between the ring of Daleks and the planet.

For a second, Clara didn't understand what she was looking at. Then it clicked - the colors was backwards. She was still expecting the Dalek ships to appear as red, but in this case, they were blue. The red dots had to be… other TARDISes?

"ACTIVATE WEAPONRY," the Empress commanded. The Doctor responded immediately, jarring Clara once again. The Doctor never answered authority that easily. "TARGET: HOSTILE ENEMY."

The Time Lord's fingers flew on the controls, keying in a series of commands. "Target acquired." Military speak. The Doctor hated militaries.

"FIRE AND DESTROY."

There was a moment of hesitation, a moment where Clara thought he might just come back, might throw off the effects of the Dalek drug. She could tell the Daleks were wondering too.

"You know what's important about having a companion?" He was still facing the screen, still unnaturally stiff. "Having someone with you keeps you sane. They help you see everything for the first time again. They help you remember how important and special everything is, so you don't get caught up in yourself. No one should ever be alone."

Clara caught her breath. Was this it? Had he fought back? She could feel the hope rising in her chest.

But then the Doctor hit a button. The ship rocked slightly with the kickback, and soon a small yellow dot made its way onto the screen, arcing towards one red dot. He had done it. He had fired on a TARDIS.

"Clara. What would you say is most striking about Daleks?"

She almost gasped in relief. The change was so sudden, it took her a second to reply. "Um… their voice?"

He glanced over his shoulder, sending her a look she knew well. A look that meant, _You can do better than that, Clara. Come on._

"Daleks are the perfect example of a collectivist society. Everything they do is for the greater good. Nothing is more important than their own species. And if you're not Dalek, you don't matter. See? It's their unity, their loyalty." He turned to the Empress. "You lot just gave me the best parts of you. In your eyes, anyway. Discipline. Ruthlessness. And that loyalty."

Whirling around, coattails flying, the Doctor pounded lightening commands into the console. Instantly, the map disappeared, replaced by an outside camera feed. Captivated, the entire room watched as the missile launched only moments before collided with it's target - a massive Dalek ship, blowing a hole in the side and sucking dozens of Daleks out into open space.

"Dose me up with species loyalty, then hand me a spaceship's worth of guns and tell me to shoot at my own people." He sniffed. "Idiots."

"KILL THE HUMAN," the first Dalek bellowed. "THE DOCTOR'S COMPANION."

"Ah, ah, careful." The Doctor held up one hand in warning, the other still on the controls. "Those big fancy guns are still primed, remember? And I can send a big fat missile wherever I want, whenever I want. _Including_ at your ship. Maybe take out your generators? A Dalek ship that just fired on one of its own, dead in the water. Ooh." He grimaced in mock sympathy. "I'm not jealous."

"DO NOT SHOOT!" the Empress commanded. Somehow, she didn't seem very upset about this turn of events. Slowly, the Daleks stilled, watching the screen nervously. "AN IMPASSE, DOCTOR."

He snorted. "Oh, hardly. Your friends out there are going to notice you pretty soon, don't you think?" He turned to his companion without waiting for a response. "Alright there, Clara?"

"I'm ready to go," she answered, grinning. "How about you?"

"More than ready." One finger still conspicuously on the button, the Doctor addressed the Daleks. "You know, it's almost admirable. Your dedication to each other, your cooperation. _Very_ impressive. But it's a good thing you think hatred is beautiful, because _nothing_ in this universe is as hated as you. Oh, but that's alright, you've still got each other."

He flashed a cheerful grin at his captive audience. Then, in a split second, all levity was gone from his face, leaving it as cold as it had been when he was under Dalek control. "Except when you don't."

At the touch of a few more buttons, the camera feed changed, showing the inside of another Dalek ship. "Turn the radio up loud, boys," he called through the newly-established comm link. "The Doctor's on."

It took only seconds for the other Daleks to notice. "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" one demanded. "WHAT IS THIS SHIP?"

The Doctor feigned surprise. "You don't know? You mean you haven't met the Empress?"

"EMPRESS? DALEKS RECOGNIZE NO ROYALTY."

"Don't they? That's funny, 'cause I've got someone to introduce you to." With a bow and a flourish, he gestured towards the massive Dalek leader beside him. "May I present the Empress of the Daleks."

"HAIL THE EMPRESS," a Dalek to Clara's left called, joined by a few scattered echoes.

"DALEKS RECOGNIZE NO EMPRESS," the other ship's Dalek repeated furiously. "YOU ARE NOT TRUE DALEKS. YOU ARE ABOMINATIONS. YOU WILL BE DESTROYED." The comm link disappeared, returning to the camera.

Eyebrows up, the Doctor glanced at Clara. "Oops."

"THE EMPRESS IS OUR SAVIOR. SHE CANNOT BE DESTROYED."

"Clara, do you know how to make a Dalek?" the Doctor asked conversationally. "Subtract love, add hate. But what if you add love for an Empress? What are you then?"

The ship rocked, sending Daleks flying. The Doctor, though, somehow kept his feet. Flames curled across the camera feed.

"Your own enemy," he said, watching the chaos without emotion. "That's what you are."

Clara pushed off a Dalek, regaining her footing. The room was chaos, Daleks rushing to patch up their ship and to return fire. None were paying them any heed. "Doctor? Leave now?"

He snapped back to attention. "Course. One thing, though." Glancing around for his sonic sunglasses, the Doctor snatched them up and ran to the Empress. "So sorry, your Majesty. Or whatever you call a false empress." Tapping the rim, he ran his fingers along the edge of a panel on the metal casing, popping it open and peering inside. "Just like I thought. No actual Dalek. But look."

Inside was a small, plastic box, wired crudely into the rest of the Empress's form. It was black and beat up, and looked very familiar. "Hang on… is that a walkie talkie?"

"Specially modified for long distances. And for space. This baby's got a range of a few light years, at least."

"But it's from Earth! The janitors have them at my school, the same ones!" Clara stared, unable to process what she was seeing. "How did a radio from Earth make it into a Dalek ship?" She paused as a bigger question occurred to her. "And who was talking through it?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Good question. It could be anyone. With the Dalek voice modulation system, we'd never know. If I can get a read on the signal, we might find out…" But as soon as he activated his sunglasses, the little device sparked and died.

"What happened?" Clara asked.

"Not even a trace left." He shook his head, slipping the sunglasses safely back into his pocket. "Whoever designed this knew a thing or two about sonic technology."

He grabbed the walkie talkie, yanking the wires out roughly. "I'll analyze it more closely in the TARDIS, see if I can pick anything up."

"But we're done here?"

The Doctor looked around, eyeing the chaos he'd created with no little satisfaction. "Yes. Time to go."

* * *

 **A.N: And breathe. Well. That was fun. This was one of those chapters where, once I started writing, I just couldn't stop. I love climaxes. And we're still not even half done with this story. Aren't you guys excited? I'm excited. I'm so excited. Just wait til you see what I've got planned for you.**

 **I strongly suspect we have some new readers joining us, so welcome! So glad you're along for the ride. Once again, I want to remind you to make sure you've read _Mystery Girl_ (and even if you have, maybe read it again. It has been more than a year since I finished it. Isn't that insane?) The more details you can recall about our Mystery as the Doctor last recalls seeing her, the more of an impact this story will make - and the better of a chance you'll have of guessing what's coming! I still don't think you'll get it in full, though. And I am excited to find out. I'm so excited. It's gonna be great.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	18. Back to the Time War

Back in the TARDIS, the Doctor strode to the console, tossing the slightly-smoking radio amid the cacophony of buttons. "Time to go," he muttered, prepping for flight. Clara, just behind him, shut the door tightly behind her, wincing as another missile hit the ship.

"Yeah, in your own time." She blew some loose strands of hair out of her face. "What's going on out there?"

"Look for yourself." The Doctor shoved a monitor towards her, still showing the basic map of the surrounding space. The configuration of Daleks was roughly the same as before they'd landed, but dozens of blue dots had joined theirs. "Doctor, are those other TARDISes?"

He spared a passing glance for the screen. "Battle TARDISes. Sensing a weakness in the Dalek ranks. The CIA uses them all the time."

"CIA?" she repeated, sure she'd heard wrong. "You're telling me America's got TARDISes?"

"Celestial Intervention Agency," he corrected her.

She decided not to comment on that. "So, battle TARDISes." In spite of everything going on, Clara was fascinated - despite traveling with the Doctor for as long as she had, she still knew almost nothing about his home. "What's different about them? Yours isn't a battle TARDIS."

"Course not. They're way to clunky. Mine's sleek." At her raised eyebrow, he relented and explained. "They're specially built for combat. The outsides are built of living metal that can morph into any shield or weapon you could ask for in a second."

"Wow." Clara nodded, impressed. "What does a Time Lord do for a weapon?"

"Time torpedos."

" _What?"_

"Shush. Busy. Don't distract me, or we might get blown up." Calculations complete, he pulled the lever and the TARDIS took off with her usual jolt. "Right. I've put the shields up again. Go ahead, you can look." He nodded towards the door.

Cautiously, Clara pulled open one of the wooden doors, hanging on to the other in case the TARDIS lurched again.

Outside, pandemonium reigned. The Dalek ships were swarmed by mobs of small, grey and silver machines. They were about the same size and shape as the Doctor's TARDIS, but the resemblance stopped there. Sleek, stark, and dangerous, they were decidedly less unfriendly. The Dalek ships, alternately targeting the TARDISes and each other, found themselves fighting a losing battle - but Clara could already see more Dalek ships on the way.

"We don't have the numbers to fend them off forever," the Doctor said grimly, joining her at the door. "Otherwise it'd be us surrounding their planet. Pretty soon we'll have to retreat and it'll go back to a stalemate. Again." Clara heard the unsaid words: _Until they blow us up._

"There, look." The Doctor pointed towards one of the battle TARDISes, which was glowing a faint gold. "Gearing up the time torpedo. When it fires, whatever it hits will be frozen outside of time, unable ever to return to this plane of existence."

"Sounds nasty," Clara commented, watching with interest as a jet of swirling gold light shot out of the other TARDIS and enveloped one of the bigger Dalek ships. In an instant, it had vanished, gone from time. "Why don't they use that all the time?"

"It's suicidal. The power comes from the Time Vortex. Machines can't handle that alone, they need a sentient conduit. And all that rushing through a mind is too much. That pilot is either dead or insane." He stared at where the ship had been. "That's why they only use it for big command centers. Usually those big fellows surround themselves with smaller ships as protection, but when things get jumbled like this, they have an opportunity to make it worth it." His frown deepened, like he was doubting the truth of what he'd just said. "I never wanted to come back here."

Clara stared at him, eyes wide, sorry she'd asked. What did a person say to that?

"It's the same sort of technology they used to create the Moment," he added after a while. "Entirely outside of time, but it can influence what happens." He chuckled humorlessly. "No wonder they locked it away."

"Until you stole it," his companion said, staring up at him. He didn't meet her gaze.

"Right. Until then." Abruptly, the Doctor shut the door tightly, cutting off their view of the chaos outside. "If I can get close enough to one of the other TARDISes to be recognized, they should bring us in, no problem. Take us right through that barrier I mentioned. Or they'll blast me out of the sky, one of the two." He grinned at her, but his heart wasn't quite in it. "Should we go find out which one?"

"Um… I guess?"

He nodded, going back to the console to pilot them in closer. Clara stayed by the door, wanting to look out again but not quite daring to. "Why haven't they seen us already?" she asked. "If they've got every fancy weapon imaginable, should they have spotted us by now?"

"Not their job," the Doctor answered. "They're built for direct contact combat. Time Lords have other, specialty stuff for detection and stealth."

"Really? What?"

"No idea." He shrugged, grinning. "That's how stealthy they are. Even I can't detect them. Ah, here we go." Glancing at the monitor to confirm their position, he went back to the door, pulling both sides open. This time, though, the battle was gone, presumably behind them. One battle TARDIS was orbiting them suspiciously, a man's face peering out through a porthole.

Clara, looking over his arm, mustered a cheerful smile, but the Doctor stayed grim and drawn. They saw the young soldier's eyes widen in recognition. Then he disappeared, back a moment later with an older woman - the pilot, perhaps.

 _They know him, then,_ Clara though. _But is that good or bad?_

The man pointed to the Doctor's TARDIS, a question on his face, which the woman confirmed with a nod. Then one side of the battle TARDIS swung open.

"They're establishing communication," the Doctor said quietly. "They've already locked on to us. Either way, we're not going anywhere."

"Identify yourself," the man called. "Name and rank." The pilot next to him studied the Doctor's face carefully. Her hair was the same color as the outside of the ship: battleship grey. Clara got the feeling she knew full well who the 'foreign' Time Lord was.

"The Doctor and Clara Oswald. Higher than you. We're going to Arcadia."

The young man bristled slightly at his presumption, but the woman laid a hand on his arm. "It's alright. He can go. Clearance granted. " Turning toward the Doctor, she bowed slightly. "Welcome home, sir. I was at Skull Moon. It's an honor to have you back."

* * *

 **A.N: Hey all. This one ended up being a little darker than I planned, and I got less done. You all know that's a problem for me, but ah well. Just means there'll be more for you to read!**

 **I do want to mention: battle TARDISes do exist, though I believe they have only been mentioned in the Doctor Who novels. I ran across them randomly on some research trawl months ago and they were just so cool I had to put them in. You learned something. (Also, I have no idea if it actually would kill the pilot, but we've seen what happens to people who channel the power of the Time Vortex - Rose, Donna, Mystery in my earlier stories. See, it is relevant.)**

 **Thank you again for reading, everybody. I do appreciate it. I've been hearing that some people's reviews aren't posting, which sucks. If you have posted a review lately, maybe check in and make sure it's there? I'd hate to just ignore something because it disappeared into cyberspace.**

 **I don't know how to wrap things up so I'm just going to end.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	19. Connected

With a curt nod, the Doctor shut the TARDIS door. Immediately dropping his grim expression, he darted to the console, snatching up the busted radio and tossing it to Clara, along with his sonic sunglasses. "Here, see what you can make of this."

Clara caught the radio instinctively, fumbling with the glasses. "Er… shouldn't we be following them? Down to Gallifrey?"

The Doctor shook his head. "A Time Lord escort doesn't need following. They'll tow us in. Besides, I'm busy. I need to run a detox."

"Detox?"

"Whatever it was they injected me with," he explained, rolling up one sleeve, "I want to know exactly what it is and what it does, and then get rid of it."

"Sensible." She slipped on the sunglasses, tapping the rim and peering at the walkie talkie. "So you think it's more than just gene suppressant."

"I don't know. It all felt too easy. Yes, maybe they left a loophole that I found because I'm clever. But I didn't feel as…" He hesitated. "…different… as I thought I should have."

Clara bit her lip, not sure how to answer. In truth, the Doctor did bear a striking similarity to the Daleks at times. Especially when he was angry. If that drug really had stripped away all kindness and love from her friend, maybe a Dalek was all that was left.

"So I'm just going to check it out," he finished, wincing as he attached a small sensor to his inner arm. "And then get it out. Finding anything on that?" He nodded towards the radio.

"Not much," she said with a shrug. "It's definitely of Earth origin, and it's definitely been soniced. Your software doesn't recognize the signal, though. Can't trace it."

The Doctor grunted, yanking out the sensor. "I'm not surprised. I didn't expect much."

"It feels set up, doesn't it?" Clara asked, setting the radio aside and pushing the sonic sunglasses higher up on her head. "Sort of stage-managed. Like that Empress: I can't figure out how she knew my name."

"Well, obviously there was no 'Empress'," he said, focusing in on a monitor. "Not a Dalek Empress, anyway. Someone or something is posing as a Dalek, trying to win them over." He stared balefully at the useless radio. "I just wish I knew _who."_

"I bet it was a Time Lord," Clara suggested. "That's what I'd do. Infiltrate the enemy ranks, turn them against each other. Using mercy and kindness against them…" _It feels very Time Lord. Taking good things and turning them into weapons._ "It's genius."

"It gets better. Come look at this." Beckoning her over, he shoved around the monitor. It was showing ingredients: a surprisingly short list of chemical compounds.

Clara frowned. "I'm an English teacher, Doctor. I don't do chemistry."

"Here." He pointed. "Concentrated nitrous oxide, better known as laughing gas. Used in anesthesia as a relaxant. It can also make you dissociate."

"Dissociate?"

"It's when your mental processes split up and act independently," the Doctor explained. "In extreme cases, it's what causes multiple personalities. They diluted it here, of course. And this one, cannabidiol. Causes muscle relaxation, sedation, decreased alertness." He paused, scanning through the list quickly. "There's nothing about genes here at all."

"Okay." Clara was struggling to put the pieces together. "That's good, right?"

"Well, the good news is, it's harmless. There's a dissolving agent in there as well. I don't think I was ever supposed to be able to find this. It's almost gone from my bloodstream already."

"And the bad news?" Clara pressed. "What does it do?"

"I can't say exactly, but I can guess: They wanted to make me more suggestible, so I'd see what I expected to and wouldn't think twice. So I'd go along with their plan and never find out I was being played."

"And I bet that Empress brought that chemical with her," Clara added. "The Daleks probably had no idea what it really was."

"First the mysterious woman on Nowhere, now an empress that doesn't exist. Why do I get the feeling they're connected?" He shook his head. "Someone, somewhere, is toying with us. I just can't figure out _why._ I can't stop something if I don't know what it is."

Impulsively, Clara laid a hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure it out. We always do. And then we'll beat it."

"Of course." He covered her hand with his for a moment, then tapped a button. The chemical readout on the monitor screen disappeared, replaced by an image of Gallifrey, fast-approaching. "And I think we're about to."

* * *

With a huff of frustration, the woman shoved the microphone away and flopped back in her chair. "How can he not see it?" she demanded. "It's so obvious that something is wrong!"

"Are you forgetting? 'Something wrong' is the Doctor's daily fare. I don't know why you think this should be unusual." The blonde woman shook her head, running a hand along the clockwork gears embedded in the box she sat on. "You know him."

"And his little speech! 'Having someone keeps you sane. No one should ever be alone'," she mimicked bitterly. "Like I don't know! Like I haven't been trying for _years_ to-" She broke off. "You're with me. That's not nothing. I'm not alone."

"I'm a weapon, not a friend. You can't afford to forget that." She eyed the irritated young woman closely. "I thought you played your part very well, though."

The woman smiled humorlessly. "I do my best. I can't risk being any more obvious. I can't stand against that many angry Daleks." Glancing at her companion, she added, "Well, maybe I could, but I don't want to."

"You're learning. Good."

"I want _him_ to find _me._ " She let her head fall forward to thump on the desk, her mass of dark curls falling around her head. "I don't know how much clearer I can make it. The clues are all there, if he would just look!"

"He is looking," the blonde assured her. "It's a big universe, and he's just one man."

"One man with a time machine." She sighed, picking her head up.

"He's making progress, though. Look where he's going." She held up her hand. Floating above it was a small red planet.

The woman sucked in a breath. "Gallifrey," she murmured.

"I can't touch him there," the older woman reminded her. "They made me. I have no control."

"I know. I can't either." She stared at the holographic planet, her eyes slowly unfocusing. "Find me, Doctor," she whispered, a small smile gracing her lips. "I'm waiting."

* * *

 **A.N: Hi guys. Look at how speedy this is? You all can thank my English class for being boring. I get so much done... But anyway, that wraps up the Dalek end of things! Again, I'm sure you have questions, but bear with me. We'll get there. I promise.**

 **To address a very legitimate concern brought up in a review: I did not actually create the Celestial Intervention Agency. I found that in my research trawls as well, and kept getting really confused when they'd mention the CIA. I don't think it is Gallifreyan in origin, which might explain the alphabet, but I really don't know. Sorry if that confused you.**

 **Also, both One Moment and my Wholock story, Elysium, are within fifteen views of 4k, which is very cool. This month so far has been awesome when it comes to readership, so thank you all and do keep it up!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	20. Trial and Error

The TARDIS landed on well-worn pavement outside the main citadel of Arcadia. There were several other TARDISes parked haphazardly around the plaza, but it was plain there were usually far more. _Wartime,_ Clara thought, shaking her head.

It was odd, she reflected as two Time Lords came out to escort them. Normally, the Doctor would just land right in the room they were headed for. The TARDIS could go through walls and security systems without a problem. Here, though, the entire planet was built for TARDISes. Suddenly, they weren't extraordinary.

Clara leaned in to whisper to the Doctor. "Where is it they're taking us exactly?"

"To see the bigwigs," he murmured in reply. "The High Council."

"Which is what?" She was looking for more information than that, and he knew it.

"The governing body of Gallifrey. Doubles as a war council when necessary," he explained. "Six high-ranking Time Lords, plus the Lord President. They deal out justice, of a sort."

His tone made Clara look sharply up at him. "I take it you're not his biggest fan."

The Doctor shrugged. "Last time we met, he tried to drag me into the Time Vortex, I pointed a gun at him, and then I died. Could have gone better."

"Mmm. And now he's called you in about stealing something. Any ideas what?"

"The only thing I can really think of would be the TARDIS, but our little holograph friend seemed to think it was something else. Something bigger." He frowned. "What's so important that they'd take time out of losing a war to hunt me down for it?"

"I don't know," Clara said, looking ahead, "but I bet you'll find out."

They had reached the end of a hallway. With the ornateness of the doors and the two sentries posted outside, it was clear that this was their destination.

The guards pounded the floor with their staffs in perfect unison. The resulting thud echoed down the hall, and of its own accord, the double doors swung open to admit them.

Clara sucked in a breath - the room was enormous, much bigger than it had seemed. _Bigger on the inside,_ she thought ruefully. _I should have known._ Nonetheless, it was astonishingly impressive.

The hall was roughly circular, with protruding platforms ranged all around the walls. Each platform had around five Gallifreyans, standing arrayed in full Council regalia. The ceiling was so high up it disappeared from view, hidden by the bright lights that illuminate the platform onto which the Doctor and Clara were shown.

"The full council," he murmured, looking up into the haze. "This is national emergency-level bad."

Their platform was hexagonal and directly in the center of the room. As soon as all were on, it rose into the air, coming to a stop halfway up the room. The six members of the High Council stood one on each side, with the Lord President looming in the middle, calm and implacable. The Doctor sucked in a breath. "Rassilon," he muttered. "He should have regenerated by now. He shouldn't have that face anymore."

The door guards had followed them in, and now one grabbed the Doctor, forcing him to his knees. "Address him as 'Lord President,' and speak when you are spoken to only."

"Fine way to treat guests," he said indignantly.

"You are no guest here," Rassilon said, addressing him for the first time. His voice boomed through the massive chamber. "You are under arrest. Cuff him," he added, more quietly.

"Cuff him?" Clara exclaimed. "You can't just demand that we come and then arrest us! You don't have any proof!"

"Cuff her too," the Lord President commanded.

Seconds later, Clara found herself on her knees beside the Doctor, wrists locked together behind her back. He grinned at her. "Joining me?"

She sighed, blowing the hair out of her face. "Apparently it's against the law to mouth off to the Lord President."

"You enjoyed it."

"Oh, shut up," she snapped, decidedly cross.

He winked, but switched his focus to the council arrayed around them. "What are you arresting me for?"

"The theft of the Moment!" Rassilon answered, steely grey eyes watching him intently. "The Galaxy Eater. The most powerful weapon ever created has vanished from the Time Vaults."

"Well, did you look around?" the Doctor inquired innocently. "You might have just misplaced it." But Clara could see his mind was racing - this was big, unexpected news.

The guard behind him shoved him roughly with the butt of his staff.

"Now is not the time for jokes, Doctor." Another council member stepped forward, peering down at him with derision. "You had motive, means, and opportunity. No one else has a TARDIS quite like yours."

"Thank you, Chancellor," said the Doctor, nodding politely. The Chancellor sneered - the comment was obviously no compliment.

"Where is your proof?" Clara demanded, deciding to speak up. "If this really is a place of justice, how can you throw two people in chains on no provocation? I'm not even a citizen of yours!"

Rassilon stared down at her, dislike carving deep lines into his face. "The past actions of the Doctor are proof enough." He turned to the vast array of Time Lords behind him. "Has this man demonstrated reckless behaviour?"

The Time Lords chorused their agreement.

"Has he not proved his ability to do the impossible, no matter the cost or consequence?"

"I'm almost flattered," the Doctor muttered as the assembled Time Lords assented again. The guard behind him raised his staff threateningly and the Doctor subsided.

"Are there others who would dare risk the wrath of the Council of Arcadia in such a way?"

This time the agreement from the assembly was less resounding. Clara could hear muted mutterings from the crowd and took advantage of it.

"You're using that for conviction?" she asked derisively. "Just because he's the only one you can think of off the top of your heads that might have gone rogue? Any of you could have done it! And it's a big universe, there's not just you lot-"

"Only a Time Lord could enter the vaults!" Rassilon boomed. "No other race has the technology."

"How do you know?" Clara fired back. She didn't know much about Gallifreyan policies towards aliens, but the guard seemed much less eager to knock her around.

Rassilon glared. "Silence, or you will be gagged."

Clara sensed that he meant it and decided to stay out of it - for now, at least.

"Have you any defence, Doctor?" Rassilon asked, turning his burning gaze on the Time Lord kneeling before him.

"Just a question first." He glanced around at the High Council, standing circled around him. "Anyone have the time?"

There was a moment of awkward silence. Rassilon blinked, taken aback, and stared at the Doctor's mild smile. "The what?"

"The time," he repeated. "And the date, year, as much as you've got."

He could see Rassilon was about to refuse him, but one of the other Council members stepped forward. "I've got a timepiece."

Reluctantly, the Lord President allowed her to come closer. She knelt before the Doctor, pulling something out of her robes. At first glance, it looked like a normal pocketwatch, but when she opened it, a full solar system seemed to come out, small, blue, holographic spheres orbiting each other.

To Clara it was incomprehensible, but it seemed to make sense to the Doctor, for he nodded his thanks. "I thought so." He got to his feet, ignoring the threatening movements of the guards. "With respect, Lord President, I did do it. Just not yet." He grinned toothily. "You've got the wrong man."

* * *

 **A.N: Hi guys. I told myself I was going to take the weekend off (seemed like a good time to do it, as we're kind of between parts right now) and it kind of turned into a week. Sorry. But I'm back, with the beginnings of our next adventure! I'll admit not to know much about how Gallifrey is set up politically, so much of this is supposition, but what I do have is based largely off The End of Time, the 10th Doctor's last episode(s). So brush up on that, if you're curious.**

 **My views have dropped off rather dramatically all of a sudden, which is a little upsetting, but I trust you all. That's what I get for doing nothing for a week. Thanks for reading, and maybe leave a review? There's a racist in my German class and it's getting me down (and worked up, which you'd think would be opposites). Thanks, loves.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	21. Find the Lost

The reaction was immediate. The massive room rang with shouts of confusion, anger, and even startled laughter. The Council members alternated between faint amusement and righteous indignation, while Rassilon stood frozen, his face a fetching mix of rage and disbelief. Clara, meanwhile, was trying to find a grammatically correct way to express having done a future event.

The Doctor blinked, ever innocent. "Did I say something?"

"You did do it… just… not yet." Rassilon spat out each word individually, like even saying the phrase left a foul taste in his mouth.

"Oh, come on. Something's wrong with time. Surely you can feel it." He looked around at the other Council members, appealing to each in turn. "It started just a few hours ago. The planet of the Possibilities is back in the sky. In my timeline, it was destroyed centuries ago."

 _Along with Gallifrey,_ Clara added silently. She doubted the Time Lords would be very motivated to fix time if they knew it would wipe them from existence.

"Something happened," the Doctor persisted, seeking out the few even mildly supportive faces, "something that was never supposed to happen. Something big, big enough to alter the timeline of the universe."

"You cannot be serious, Doctor," Rassilon scoffed.

"It itches, doesn't it?" he asked, pressing in. "Just underneath your skin, just in the back of your mind. A tiny little buzz that makes you want to hide under the nearest rock. Even safe in your little bubble here, you must have felt it!"

"What do you think it is?" a Council member asked. Rassilon glared at him, and he backed down almost immediately.

"You said something was stolen. The Moment. When?"

The man looked nervously at Rassilon before answering. "Earlier today. Hours ago, that's all."

With a triumphant nod, the Doctor turned to his companion. "Clara."

"I believe that's what we in literature would call an inciting incident." Her mind was racing through the implications. "Okay. So you used the Moment to save Gallifrey in the height of the Time War. And that stopped the war."

"But what if I didn't?" he asked, his rising excitement matching hers. "What if I couldn't, because someone else had gotten there first? We're talking paradoxes for any time traveler… The effects would be unknowable."

"And if you didn't use it to save Gallifrey, then the Time War is still going on!"

"Which it is," the Doctor confirmed, grimacing at the memories of the past few hours. "So if I didn't take it… who did? And what are they doing with it?"

"Sorry…" The Council member who had intervened before held up a hand. "But how is this relevant?"

"Partisan, you are out of line!" Rassilon barked. "This man is a suspect and a fugitive, and-"

The Doctor whirled on him, frustrated with his bound arms - no dramatic gesturing. "The _timeline_ of the _universe_ has been altered in the most massive way possible, and the fabric of time is rebelling. An entire causal nexus ruptured. A literal wrinkle in time," he explained with a quick wink for Clara. "We've got enough Time Vortex in our DNA to feel it." He stared around the circle, raising his voice to address the entire assembly. "Or did you have a better explanation?"

Silence rang through the room, chasing his echoes. A silence just long enough to tip the scales: Rassilon was losing control.

"This is mere speculation," he sneered, drawing attention back to himself. A mob was a fickle thing, but he knew he had the advantage. "Where is your proof?"

"Where is yours?" the Doctor countered immediately. "Look. I'm here willingly, aren't I? You called me and I came. If I had something to hide, I would be on the other side of the galaxy right now."

Clara hid a smile. He wasn't kidding - the Doctor's entire life was spent running from his past. Only the seriousness of the situation would entice him back.

"Bring it to a vote, then," the Doctor challenged, staring Rassilon in the eye. "Debate won't get anywhere if one side refuses to listen."

Rassilon stared coldly back, and for a moment, Clara thought he would refuse. The pressure intensified, hundreds of Time Lord eyes centering in on the platform, waiting for a judgement. Clara sensed from the Doctor's tone that a vote was standard protocol. Rassilon was trapped, and he knew it.

"A vote, then," the Lord President said tightly, turning away, robes swirling behind. "A vote to determine the Doctor's guilt and complicity in the theft of the Moment. A vote to determine the truth of his preposterous claim. Innocent or guilty."

Clara and the Doctor were forced back to their knees in the middle of the circle to await judgement. There was a brief time for consideration, and then the Lord President looked to each Council member in turn. The votes began to ring out.

"Guilty."

"Guilty."

"Innocent."

One man shook his head, remaining silent. "He abstained," the Doctor whispered to Clara. "He's not convinced either way. Good for us - that means there's doubt."

"Innocent would be better," Clara replied, watching each member's face closely. The Doctor nodded ruefully, falling silent as the next member spoke.

"Guilty."

"Innocent."

"Guilty," Rassilon spat, tone bitterly disappointed. Clara glanced at the Doctor, confused.

"Gallifreyan law requires a majority of five to act," the Doctor explained, relaxing slightly. "They haven't got enough to do anything, and he knows it."

"Oh. Well, that's good, isn't it?" she asked brightly. The Doctor shrugged.

"They can still hold us for as long as they need to come to a decision. And you can bet that'll be a while." He glared at Rassilon. "He still wins."

"No decision has been reached," one member announced. "The matter must be investigated more closely."

"Don't you get it?" the Doctor roared, surging to his feet. "There's no time! Time is running out in the most literal way possible. We can't wait for your bureaucratic red tape!"

Rassilon bore down on him, confidence regained. "You will be _silent_ ," he spat. "This is no longer of your concern. The High Council will… make inquiries and notify you as necessary." He gave them one last disdainful glare, then looked at the guards. "Take them away."

"Wait."

Rassilon froze, suddenly stiff. The voice had come from behind him, and neither Clara nor the Doctor could see who had spoken. The Doctor, however, seemed to recognize the voice. He and the Lord President both looked nervous, but with new respect.

"I recognize you," he called formally, stepping forward. "You may speak."

"The Wanderer, the Missing, the Lost Child of Gallifrey. I would speak with him." The voice was old and slightly unhinged. Rassilon stepped aside with a nod, revealing the speaker.

"The Visionary is an oracle of the highest order," he hissed, mostly for Clara's benefit. "Do not disrespect her." He sounded as though he was reminding himself.

She was old, yes, and definitely looked more than senile. Her red robes seemed to drown her, with only two shriveled hands and a wrinkled face to show the being as living. Her hair was wispy and hung in fragile strands in all directions, falling over her face and partially obscuring the strange symbols inked onto her skin. Two guards flanked her, although whether they were there to protect her or to control her was impossible to tell.

"Doctor," she rasped, lingering over the name. "Gone, back, gone, back, returned. Why?"

"I need help," the Doctor called. "Something happened and I can't fix it."

"The universe needs help. _She needs help._ "

"Who?" he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"So alone, so abandoned, so left behind by her friends. No one left in the universe. No home no friends alone alone alone. The universe needs help. You were her friend," she added, as if the two things were unrelated.

Clara frowned. Nothing about this woman made sense, and the syntax was starting to hurt her head.

"Who's friend?" the Doctor asked again, frustration rising. "I can help if you just tell me who!"

But the Visionary ignored his request, addressing Rassilon instead. "Time is falling," she announced. "Falling breaking shattering melting slipping away. _It is his fault_." She pointed one long nail at the kneeling Doctor.

"So he did steal it!" Rassilon was in triumph.

The Visionary shook her head, wisps of hair flying. "No."

"But it's my fault," the Doctor confirmed, brow furrowed, thinking hard.

"Make amends. Find the lost. Reunite. Find the lost. Find the lost. Find the lost…" She kept repeating the phrase over and over until Rassilon raised a hand, signaling the two guards to grab her arms and drag her out of the hall.

"Enough madness," he said derisively. "Lock them up. If you-"

"My Lord President, the Visionary may have a point." One Council member stepped forward, not flinching under Rassilon's furious glare. Clara was interested to see that she was the one abstention.

"That… _creature_ has as many points as a circle," Rassilon spat. A shocked hush fell over the crowd, but the woman was undaunted.

"Infinitely many, then?" she inquired archly. Then, before he could respond, "Find the lost. Set the Doctor to finding the missing Moment. If he is guilty, as you believe, he may save face and return it immediately. If he is innocent, he will see the urgency of keeping such a weapon out of the wrong hands." She eyed the Doctor coolly. "Remember, he is a war hero. Imprisoning him may prove… damaging… for our administration."

Rassilon whirled on her. "Is that a threat?" he hissed.

"Merely a prudent observation," she answered calmly.

Clara glanced at the Doctor, raising one eyebrow a hair. _Bit paranoid, isn't he?_

"It's a good plan," another Council member said, and several more added their agreement, sounding relieved to have a course of action. Rassilon, furious but beaten, acquiesced.

"Very well, Doctor. Find the Moment. Return it immediately. Fail, and bring the entire armies of Gallifrey down upon your head." His smile was ice. "Best of luck."

* * *

 **A.N: Hey, all. We having fun on Gallifrey yet? I'm really enjoying playing with this world, and I'm glad you all are liking it. You all remember the Visionary, right? Highly underrated character. I really do like building up brief characters whenever I can. Like the Moment, for example... oh, I'm excited. Let's do this. I'm glad you're all with me.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**

 **P.S: In answer to an astute reader's point (looking at you, supercode): You're right, Clara shouldn't recognize normal TARDISes - except the Doctor just pointed them out to her as they were coming into the planet. Good job keeping me honest, though!**


	22. Who Is She?

Rassilon proceeded to dismiss the council and order them escorted out of the hall, but Clara had stopped listening. Instead, she was watching the Doctor.

"I know that look," she said quietly. "Your brain's a hundred lightyears down the road already, isn't it?"

"The Visionary mentioned a woman," the Doctor murmured. "Someone I used to be friends with. Someone without a home or a people."

Clara nodded, following his train of thought. "You think that person will lead us to the Moment?"

"Find the lost," he repeated. "What is 'the lost,' I wonder? The Moment or this person?" He paused for a second as they walked, considering. "Either way, it's somewhere to start."

"So who do you think it is?" she asked, then looked at his expression and grinned. "You already know, don't you?"

Ignoring her, the Doctor turned to the guards escorting them down the twisting hallway. "There's another Time Lord somewhere. A renegade, like me. Used to be called the Master, might be Missy now, I'm not sure where we're at in the timeline."

The guard glanced at her companion, unsure. "We are aware of Missy."

"Do you know where she is?" he persisted. "Where can I find her?"

"The Time Lady is imprisoned here on Gallifrey in temporary holding," the other guard told them. "She returned to the planet earlier today."

Clara raised an eyebrow in surprise. "That's too convenient to be coincidence."

"Where is she being held?" the Doctor demanded.

The two guards exchanged glances again. "That is highly confidential information, and-"

"Oh, stuff it." The Doctor cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I'm investigating the disappearance of the Moment. You heard them. Planetary security at stake here. You shouldn't be guarding me, you should be helping me. This is me investigating."

After another significant look, the first guard nodded and rattled off a quick set of directions. The Doctor thanked her, then he and Clara set off, leaving the rather bemused pair behind.

"Missy, then," Clara said as they walked. "You think it's her." It wasn't a question.

"Too convenient to be coincidence," he replied by way of an answer. "She's traveled all over the place, in space and in time. If anyone else would notice something wrong, it would be her."

"But do you think she caused it?" she asked. "All of this?"

"The Moment caused it," he said firmly, lowering his voice. "We know that much. We find that, we find the cause."

Clara considered that. "She _has_ stolen it from you before. And if there's anything she knows how to do, it's stage-manage things."

"Yep. And she knows Gallifrey inside and out. If anyone could take it, she could."

"It all fits, then!" Clara said, excitement rising. "Think about it. Everything we've done today, all the crazy things that have happened to us, they've all had a woman involved. Some mysterious somebody, and all we know is that it's a woman who's good with technology and loves to be dramatic."

The Doctor shrugged. "She definitely fits the bill. Let's go ask her."

* * *

The twists and turns of the hallways were baffling, but the Doctor seemed to know exactly where he was going. Clara tried not to wonder how he knew the way to the cells so well, but the trip was thankfully quick. In fact, she almost missed it when they arrived.

"Missy?" she asked incredulously. "I thought you were locked up!"

The renegade Time Lady was sitting on a bench in a recessed room, impeccably dressed as ever, legs crossed at the ankles, looking for all the world like she'd just paused for a breath. Clara could see no locks, or even doors.

"Doctor!" she cried, appearing genuinely delighted. "And the bossy one as well. Lovely. How nice of you to finally come."

"You're expecting us, then," the Doctor said, holding out a hand to stop Clara from going any closer.

"Well, of course!" Missy laughed, all charm. "Time is… oh, how did you put it. Falling apart? Unraveling? I could tell. It's been driving me mad." She winked. "Of course you'd show up."

The Doctor shrugged. It was hard to argue with that logic.

"But they said you were imprisoned!" Clara was still flummoxed. "And you're just sitting there?"

"Oh, I am imprisoned, you can count on that," Missy said with a sigh. "But the high and mighty Time Lords hate to be reminded of anything… unpleasant. Including jail. So they don't look at it." She rose gracefully off her bench, walking towards them. "So, I sit here, waving through a window, waiting for someone to walk by."

She took one more step forward and held up her hands. Moving the slightest bit forward, her hands suddenly hit a blue light. Crackling bolts of electricity snaked away from the point of contact between her palms and the mysterious wall, though she didn't seem to be hurt. "I can't get nearly as close as I would like."

"Force field?" Clara asked, crossing her arms. "Really?"

Missy shrugged lightly. "You have to admit, it's got style."

Patience for small talk running dry, the Doctor crossed his arms. "What are you doing here?"

The Time Lady raised one thin eyebrow. "You think I _asked_ to be here?"

"On Gallifrey," he clarified, frown deepening. His increasing irritation only seemed to cheery Missy more.

"Same as you," she said with a shrug. "Something was… off… and I wanted to know what. As prissy as these lads are, some of them know a thing or two. Love the capes, though," she added speculatively.

"Then what did you do to end up in prison?" Clara asked, skeptical.

"Rassilon," she said with a sigh, slumping against the force field barrier. Blue light crackled. Clara winced, covering her ears, but it didn't seem to bother Missy at all. "You might recall that last time he and I were together, I dragged him into the void. Apparently he can hold a grudge."

"Tell me about it," the Doctor muttered.

"Indeed. They locked me up the minute I arrived." She eyed the Doctor with a sly smile. "Pity they didn't do the same with you. I'd have loved to have a… cellmate."

Clara wrinkled her nose. There was entirely too much suggestion in the phrase.

"Yeah, well, they tried," said the Doctor lightly. "You should try being nice to them some time. It almost works."

"Oh, I'm only good at being nice to you." She winked. "More than nice, if you ask politely."

"Yeah, alright," Clara said, deciding to step in before anything went any further. "Missy, where's the Moment?"

She blinked innocently. "The what?"

"Oh, please." Clara crossed her arms, glaring at the Time Lady. "You know where it is, don't you? What, did you stash it somewhere before you landed?" She was willing to play bad cop, even if the Doctor wasn't.

"As if I'd come here if I had that much power in my hands," she sniffed. "Be reasonable."

"How's this for reasonable?" Clara asked. She leaned in so her face was mere inches away from the invisible barrier. "Something bad is happening. You're locked up, but we're not. That means _we_ can do something about it. So whatever you know that could help us, _tell us now._ "

Missy glanced at the Doctor, who was hiding a smile, then back at Clara. "You mean you honestly don't know?"

"Know?" Clara looked at the Doctor as well, momentum thrown off. "Know what?"

"Oh, please." Missy rolled her eyes, mimicking Clara's earlier tone. "Where've you been, under an asteroid? Sulking with otters again? Practically everyone in the galaxy is terrified of her."

"Her?" the Doctor repeated.

"Of course." Missy smirked, letting the tension build. "You've never heard of the legendary Madame Miss?"

* * *

 **A.N: *creeps out from under rock* Hey guys. Sorry it's been ages. Transitions are hard, you know? And it's been a really long time since I did anything with Missy. I'll get there, don't you worry. I promise. And hey, maybe this will last until the new season starts after all.**

 **I know I've mentioned Madame Miss before in the story, but I genuinely couldn't recall if the Doctor and Clara had heard the name. I don't think so, but if any of you catch me out, please let me know. You all keep me honest. Thank you for putting up with my delays!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	23. Involved

"Madame Miss?" Clara repeated, staring back at the Time Lady blankly. "Doctor? Ring a bell?"

He shook his head. "Rubbish name. It's two titles. You can't be called 'Madame' and 'Miss.' Just pick one."

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if she's a wee bit…" Missy whistled, tapping the side of her head meaningfully.

Clara raised an eyebrow. "Why? What's the matter with her?"

"Years and years of abandonment, of being alone and uncared for, of not fitting in anywhere I go, and look what it's done to me." With a faintly maniacal smile, Missy tapped the force field with the heavy ring on her left hand. "Only think what's it's done to her."

"You know who she is, then," the Doctor said immediately. "Who she really is."

"Well, of _course!"_ She giggled. "Can't believe you don't. And you with your reputation for knowing everybody and their grandbaby."

"Tell us, then!" Clara demanded.

Missy giggled again. "And miss watching you squirm? Please. Your nose scrunches up when you're frustrated, it's adorable."

Clara wasn't sure whether the Time Lady was talking to her or to the Doctor, but either way, it was weird. She frowned, then realized her nose was scrunched up and quickly stopped.

"She's an old friend of yours, I'll tell you that much," Missy said, arching one thin eyebrow. "A very old friend."

"She's been acting more like an enemy," the Doctor muttered, turning away.

"Oh, Doctor." Missy sighed. "The line between enemy and friend has always been a thin one, especially where you are concerned."

He began to pace tight circles around the small space.

"Honestly, Doctor, you might be better off not knowing." Something in Missy's tone made him stop. She sounded serious. "Madame Miss is… well, let's just say, I wouldn't want to get on her bad side."

Clara stared in mild disbelief. "You're scared of her!"

Squirming slightly, Missy avoided her gaze. "Madame Miss cares for nothing and no one. No morals, no guilt, no conscience. You know what that means?" She paused. "She's got nothing to lose." She leaned in, catching the Doctor's eyes, pleading. "You can't let her find out I'm helping you."

The Doctor stiffened, looking puzzled and deeply troubled. "She didn't… she wouldn't… Really?" he murmured.

"So you're not involved in this… whatever-this-is." Clara gestured helplessly, not sure how to describe the situation. Whatever the Doctor was thinking, he would tell her in his own time.

"Involved?" The Time Lady shook her head. "My dear, we are all _involved,_ whether we want to be or not. You and I, more so than most. But I didn't directly incite this, if that's what you're asking."

The Doctor said nothing, hands clasped tightly behind his back. Clara had a feeling he knew who Missy was talking about, even if he couldn't admit it to even himself.

"Look," Missy said, watching him carefully. "I'll make you a deal. I will tell you every juicy detail I can think of about our Madame Miss, including the location of her base… _if_ you get me out of here." She poked the force field again.

"No," Clara said immediately. "No way. I don't trust you. Doctor, she shut me up inside a Dalek last time we met, we can't let her out again!"

"Did I?" Missy asked, eyes sparking. "Interesting."

"The timelines are in flux," the Doctor murmured, drawing Clara away from the prison so they could speak privately. "She might not have done it yet. She might never have done it. We can't judge this based on her past."

Clara glanced back at the trapped Time Lady. "No, but we can judge this based on the fact that she's a lying snake." Missy caught her looking and blew a kiss.

"Clara, we need that information," he said quietly, keeping his tone level. "Even beyond the location. I don't want to walk in there blind. If Missy's afraid of her..."

"Isn't it just killing you, Doctor?" Missy called. "I know something and you don't, how are we feeling about that?"

"Think about it," the Doctor pressed. He looked like he was ignored Missy's taunts, but Clara saw him stiffen. "We have perfect security. If she double-crosses us, we can raise the alarm immediately. No matter how much trouble we get in, she'll have it worse." He glanced over his shoulder. "And she knows it."

"Doctor-"

"I have to know if I'm right." She sensed he badly wanted to do this, but wouldn't go ahead without her.

Seeing their last hesitation, Missy added, "I just want out. Get me away where Madame Miss can't find me, and where the Time Lords can't find me. So I'm not tied down. You know how that feels, Doctor."

She sighed. The worst part was, he was right: Missy was their only lead. She nodded briefly, just the slightest movement of her head. The Doctor nodded back acknowledging her agreement, and together they walked back to Missy's cell.

"Reached your decision yet?" Missy inquired. "Let me guess: you've realized the only way to move forward is to bring me with you. If you're at all clever, you're feeling ridiculous for ever thinking there was another possibility." She winked. "Tricky situation, isn't it?"

Clara gritted her teeth. "Alright. Tell us everything, then."

"Hah! As if." The Time Lady tapped the force field again, irritating even further. "Get me out first, or there's no reason for me to trust you. I have to have some leverage, you know."

The Doctor shrugged, glancing at Clara. "Ah well. Worth a shot." He pulled out his sonic sunglasses and slipped them on, scanning the edges of the force field.

"What are you doing?" Missy hissed, suddenly anxious. "I had a plan, you know. Everyone's going to know it's you, nobody else would be caught dead with something so stupid as _sonic sunglasses_." Her tone was scathing.

"Ah, they don't have as much fun," he said calmly, glancing at her over the rim of his admittedly ridiculous glasses. "Besides, this way's quicker. We don't have time to waste." He didn't look at Clara, but she felt the weight of his words.

"Look, they were going to find a reason to arrest me anyway," the Doctor said reasonably. "Might as well deserve it." He grinned crookedly. "All for the investigation, right?"

Missy rolled her eyes. "Who gave him any power?" Clara smiled in spite of herself, watching the Time Lady step cautiously out of her cell, relaxing ever so slightly when no barrier presented itself. "Let's go, then. I assume you brought your TARDIS?"

"This way." The Doctor set off down the hallway, walking quickly. Clara, set to fall in step behind him, found herself cut off by Missy, who stuck close to the Doctor's back. Irritation rising, Clara followed behind.

Once again, Clara lost count of the number of turns they took. Arcadia seemed to be organized like gears in a clock, a layout that only made sense to Time Lords. The Doctor walked purposefully, never hesitating. For a moment, Clara thought they would make it out unchallenged.

"Hey! You there! Stop!"

"Figures," the Doctor muttered, though he looked a little excited. Two guards had come around a corner in front of them and were gaping in confusion and astonishment. Clara was certain, though, that they would recover quickly and be on them in minutes.

"So now what?" she asked, looking around for any other possible exit. The Doctor grinned.

"Run!"

* * *

 **A.N: Hi all! It's been a not great week but I quit my job and things will be much better come Monday morning. Thanks for your patience on the delays here. I promise from here we'll be getting into more action and adventure, plus a little more Gallifreyan lore, which is always fun. I am going to Chicago for about a week however, so goodness knows how much I'll accomplish. You might not hear from me for a bit. College is crazy, y'all. I appreciate the support.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	24. Run

The Doctor spun around, coat tails flying behind him as he took off down the hall. Missy was hot on his heels, shoving Clara behind her in her haste. Down the hall, they heard one of the guards speaking into a communicator.

"Ma'am, we've got unauthorized personnel in Lower Hall 32. Initiate lockdown." Static pulsed, and then came the affirmation: backup would soon be on the way.

"Alert. Alert." A voice blared over some hidden loudspeaker. "Cell 456 barrier breakdown. The Time Lady known as Missy is at large. Detain immediately. Alert. Alert."

"Where are we going?" Clara demanded breathlessly, cursing her high heeled shoes. With an announcement like that, every person with eyes would be on them immediately. "Doctor, tell me you have a plan!"

"Of course I've got a plan, haven't I always? There's one place on Gallifrey no Time Lord in their right mind would go."

Missy laughed. "Sign me up, then." Then she looked at him, slowing down as she realized what he intended. "Oh. Oh, Doctor, no no."

"What?" asked Clara, annoyed at being left out of the loop.

"No time," he said, grabbing Missy's wrist and yanking her along. "Come on!"

Clara would have sighed in frustration if she'd had any breath left. She was starting to see more and more guards appearing, and more and more doors closing. _Lockdown. They're trapping us in._

They rounded a corner and saw a door beginning to slide shut at the end of the hall. "Go go go!" the Doctor yelled, pouring on speed. "If that closes on us it's over!"

Glancing behind her, Clara saw the two guards from before, gaining steadily despite still being dressed in full Council regalia. From the echoes of footsteps, more were on the way. They were sure to catch them before they reached the door.

Unless…

"Doctor!" she shouted. "Go!" Without waiting for an answer, she turned around and began running in the other direction, almost falling over from the change in momentum. As she had hoped, the guards had not anticipated their quarry to charge right at them, and didn't have time to stop.

The collision knocked the air out of her lungs and sent her sprawling on the floor, but the rewarding clatter of armour on stone floors made it worth it. Quickly, Clara reached out, grabbing for the Time Lords' impressive capes. Whenever she grasped a handful of fabric, she yanked down, doing her best to keep them on the floor.

Looking up, she saw the Doctor slow down, glancing behind him and seeing her predicament. She tried to call to him, to urge him to go on and remind him he was no good to anyone if they were all captured, but she had no breath to form the words. The guards would regain their feet in seconds, and if he was on the wrong side of that door…

Missy, however, seemed to understand. For once, Clara could be glad of her selfish impulses. The Time Lady seized the Doctor's arm, yanking him on down the hall. The door hissed shut just behind them with hardly a second to spare. Heartbeats later, she heard the familiar sonic sound. _He's sealing the doors shut so they can't follow._ Then the two sets of footsteps receded down the other corridor, leaving Clara alone with the guards.

Battered and bruised, Clara hauled herself to her feet. One guard was already standing, cursing quietly as he saw the closed door. The other followed immediately, training his weapon on Clara. "Who are you? Identify yourself!"

Inspiration struck. Propping her hands on her hips, she looked the guard right in the eye. "I'm Missy. Time Lady, escaped prisoner, general menace to time and space." She winked. "And you are?"

* * *

"Look, she'll be _fine_ ," Missy said with a drawl. "She's a clever one. And if she's not, then who cares?"

They were still running, but with the door sealed tightly behind them, the pressure was off. The Doctor had guided the pair into smaller maintenance halls, sealing them shut as well. The risk of being found or followed was dwindling - but still present. Even so, the Doctor spared enough time to glare at Missy, though he said nothing.

"We are going to the Cloisters, aren't we?" she said at last, breaking the silence. She was attempting to sound chipper, but something in her tone was brittle, shaky, false. The Time Lady might put on a brave face, but she was genuinely afraid.

"It's the only way out," he said tightly. Though he knew Clara was resourceful, the separation weighed heavily on him, driving him on. "All sorts of old technology and creatures get archived there. Cybermen, Daleks-"

"TARDISes." Missy, ever perceptive, nodded. "I'm right, aren't I? Steal a box and run away, is that your plan?"

"Not without Clara."

The hallways were beginning to slope, leading the pair down further and further into the depths. Gradually, the cleanliness and grandeur of Arcadia began to fade, with corners gathering dust and doorways falling into disrepair.

"And how are you going to find her?" Missy demanded. "In case you've forgotten, we're on _Gallifrey_ again. You can't just waltz in and out however you please."

"My TARDIS-"

"Oh, _your_ TARDIS, sure. No doubt you've cooked up all sorts of sexy special features in there, but whatever you find in the Cloisters is going to be ancient. Even older than yours," she added wryly. "Even if they work, how are you going to get yours back?"

He raised a hand to cut her off, stopping halfway down the hall. "It doesn't matter," he said. "Once we find the Moment, we can return it and set history to rights. This entire timeline was never meant to happen and the Moment will make sure it never did. Then I'll have my TARDIS back, Gallifrey will be lost, and the war will be over."

"And what about me?" Missy asked, batting her eyes up at him. "Going to leave me behind? Erase me as well?"

"Here." He avoided her gaze, reaching instead for his sonic sunglasses. He scanned the door they'd stopped in front of, recessed into the wall and heavily chained. Within seconds, however, the chains fell away and the lock clicked open. Before they could go in, though, the Doctor stopped, putting a finger to his lips. "Listen."

In the sudden silence, the pair could hear bells ringing urgently. "The Cloister Wraiths," he whispered. "They believe we're in danger."

"Who?" Missy asked, her voice lacking much of its usual flamboyance. "Us? The planet?" She paused. "Or are we the danger?"

"No idea." He shrugged and pushed the door open. The sound of dozens of bells rang out louder, filling the hallway. "Let's go ask the Sliders."

* * *

 **A.N: Hi everybody. I'm baaack. I'm aiming for posting once a week now, probably on Saturdays. If I actually have a deadline, I might be more motivated to actually post. Or, if you want another chapter or are just wondering where on Gallifrey Forever the Optimist has gotten to, send me a PM and pester me about it. The hardest part of writing is starting, as I'm sure you know. But anyway.**

 **Cloisters! Time Lord stuff! I'm super excited to play around with this, and I do really enjoy that style of writing where you pop back and forth between two people, so I'm looking forward to that! This should be fun. I'm psyched. Hope you all enjoy it!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	25. End the Mystery

Clara was being guided, or rather dragged, down yet another hallway, each guard keeping a firm hold on her upper arms. The handled her roughly, with the kind of quiet brutality inspired by a need for dominance in the face of fear and uncertainty. Clara didn't blame them.

Orders had come through to the guards communicators within minutes of her capture, but they had meant nothing to her. _Time Lords aren't stupid,_ she reflected with a sigh. _They know information is power, and they'll only give me what they absolutely have to._

Then again, surely even a Time Lord could be appealed to.

"Where are we going?" she asked, jerking her shoulder a bit to get the guard's attention. She had assumed they would dump her back in Missy's cell - they had accepted her identity without question - but these halls were unfamiliar. Though she'd never show it, Clara was nervous: how would the Doctor know where to find her now?

"You're being taken for immediate relocation," the guard informed her.

"Relocation? What's relocation?"

For a moment, she thought they wouldn't answer. "Come on," she begged. "At least let me know what I'm up against." She left a little of her fear creep into her voice. "Are you going to kill me?"

One guard made the mistake of meeting her eyes. _For once,_ Clara thought, smiling inwardly, _being small and feminine has its advantages._ "You will be teleported to an Outsider colony near the edge of Arcadia to live with them until the Council deems your sentence lifted."

"Okay…" Clara nodded slightly, cautiously. She looked from one guard to another, searching their faces for clues: just how bad was that? "What are the Outsiders?"

It occurred to her belatedly that Missy would probably already know what or who the Outsiders were and that might have blown her cover. Luckily, neither guard seemed too suspicious. One shook his head, disgusted but unsurprised that his prisoner was ignorant.

"The Outsiders are Gallifreyans that live beyond the city," he told her.

"More Time Lords?" Clara asked, confusion rising. "Why are they so bad?"

"Not Time Lords." The irritation and anger that sparked in the pair made Clara wonder what sort of faux pas she had committed now. "They are primitive beings, wearing only animal skins, hunting with bows. They've very human."

Clara winced. That was the Time Lord idea of human?

"And what's to stop me from just walking back in?" she asked. "Going to lock me up?"

The guard would have rolled his eyes if he had been any less dignified. "Assuming you survive the journey through the desert, it is impossible to get into Arcadia without express permission. Even if you're crafty," he added, shooting Clara a suspicious glance. Clearly, something of Missy's reputation had preceded her.

"But-"

"No more questions!" the other guard barked, glaring at his companion. The talkative guard subsided into a stony silence, duly chastised. Clara sighed, realizing that any information she needed, she would have to get herself.

At last, they reached their destination. The decor had changed now, no longer the rich grandeur of the High Council but a stark, pristine white reminiscent of a hospital or a (more typical) spaceship. Something about it made Clara's skin crawl.

"In here." A panel in the wall slid open and Clara was tossed roughly inside. She fell to the floor and looked up to see the door already closing behind her. One guard spoke into his communicator. "Commence relocation."

The panel clicked in with a hiss, completely disappearing from view. If Clara hadn't seen it shut, she would never have known it was there. Immediately, a pleasant female voice rang from above. "Relocation commence. Teleport in two minutes. 1:59… 1:58…"

Clara was on her feet in seconds. She ran to where the door had been, running her hands along the unforgivingly smooth wall. No cracks, no seams, no depressions. Nothing to indicate the wall had ever opened… or ever would again.

Desperate, Clara pounded the wall, then kicked it in frustration. It would not be opening again.

"1:43… 1:42…"

"Shut up!" she yelled, though she was certain the computerized voice couldn't hear her.

She stepped back and took a closer look at her cell, ignoring the time ticking away, searching for anything that could lead her out. Everything was an identical surgical white: walls, floors, ceilings - though there was no distinguishable light source. With no shadows, it was hard to tell where the floor stopped and the walls began.

Even worse, to Clara at least, was the total lack of inconsistencies. For Clara, that meant one thing: no way out.

"1:27… 1:26…"

* * *

"Sooo…" Missy looked around, daintily lifting a cobweb away. "This is the Cloisters." The tapping of her shoes left footprints in the dust, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Bit dusty."

"Missy…" the Doctor said, his tone a warning.

"No, I'm serious! Couple of mops, couple of centuries-"

"Missy! Shut up."

Really, though, the Doctor had to admit she wasn't wrong. The Cloisters were the attic of Gallifrey, or rather, the basement. Everything ended up here eventually: old technology, old information, old enemies… and old Time Lords.

The Cloister Wraiths, or Sliders, were the horror of Gallifrey, the adult's monster under the bed. The ghostly apparitions of dead Time Lords, garbed in full Council regalia, gliding between the square stone pillars, were truly the stuff of nightmares. Intended as eternal guards of the Matrix databanks, the Sliders roamed the Cloisters constantly. One passed only just out of arm's reach of the pair, silver-blue face flickering in and out, contorted in a scream.

"They're agitated," the Doctor murmured. "Something's upset them."

"Yeah, I gathered that." In truth, his words were hard to hear: besides the pealing Cloister bells, the air rang with shrieks and the the scream of metal scraping on metal. It was unnerving. "What are they exactly? Where do they come from?"

"I'm not sure anyone knows," he said quietly. "They've been around forever." He sighed. "That's the problem with living so long: you forget where you started."

"Is that your way of telling me we're lost?" But the Doctor didn't respond.

Missy, however, was never one to let a silence linger. "You know, they say people go mad in here." She followed right at the Doctor's heels, stretching up on tiptoe to speak right in his ear. "Good thing we're already bananas, eh?"

"There." The Doctor pointed through the pillars to a tall grey cylinder: an ancient TARDIS, older than any even the Doctor had ever seen. "Come on."

He led the way, striding through the pillars with renewed purpose. Before the pair could reach their ride, however, a Slider glided into their path. The Doctor held out a hand, holding Missy back. "Just wait," he whispered. "It will pass."

But the Wraith turned, bearing down on them. Plans were racing through the Doctor's mind, but the Slider stopped in front of them, its face flickering. This one wasn't screaming, but that wasn't the thing that caught the fugitives' attention.

"Well, would you look at that…" Missy said softly, raising one thin eyebrow. "Blimey, you haven't aged well, have you?"

The Doctor stared into the ethereal form of his own face, which glared back at him.

"Doooctorrrr…" The creature's voice was a ghostly hiss. "Daangerrr… _Time_ iss in danger. Why have you abandoned her?"

"Who? Just tell me who! What have I done?"

"So lost… so afraid… always running from the passsst…" The Slider came closer, only inches away from the stunned Time Lord. "But the past is _here_. Time will be _ooooverrrr, Doctorrrr."_

"Tell me how to fix it, then. Please…" He shook his head helplessly. "What do I do?"

"No one knowssss, no one _knooowwssss._ Doctorrr…" The Cloister Wraith leaned in further, filling the Doctor's vision with ghostly blue. " _End the mysssterryyyy."_

* * *

 **A.N: I said Saturday, and it is still Saturday (barely). Hey, y'all. We having fun yet? Because I am having the time of my life. I finally feel like I've gotten back into Missy, and she is an absolute joy to write. I know you guys enjoy her as well. And how cool are the Cloisters? Super underdeveloped, in my opinion. Thank goodness for fanfic.**

 **Also, one of my friends who is an actual published author gave me a term for this kind of split-perspective storytelling that I adore: headhopping. So expect some more of that before our heroes are reunited, if only because I'm in love with that term. Yay. I'm so psyched, guys. This is so fun. Yes. Hope you're having fun too!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	26. Timing

Clara was pacing the edges of her tiny cell, trying unsuccessfully to drown out the countdown playing from some hidden speaker.

"Forty-four… forty-three… forty-two…"

"Okay. Focus," she told herself firmly. "Trapped in an inescapable room, on a deadline, about to be zapped into places unknown. Exactly the Doctor's cup of tea." She spun a full circle. "So what would he do?"

"Thirty-one… thirty…"

"Plan, plan, I need a plan. A big, brilliant, Doctor-y plan." Clara paused, blowing the hair out of her face. "So what's the plan?"

"Twenty-four…"

"Shut up!" she shouted, planting her hands on her hips and glaring up at the ceiling. "I swear…"

Clara trailed off. She glanced down at her hands, then reached into her pocket and pulled out the object she had felt through her skirt. The golden key glinted in the harsh light, shining with the glow of renewed hope. "Oh, thank God."

Clutching the TARDIS key tightly, Clara held it out in front of her, just as if she was putting it into a lock. She thought she felt some friction, like there was an actual surface in front of her, but it may have been just wishful thinking.

The Doctor had told her about a similar situation before. Trapped in an old English church at a wedding, with massive dinosaur time-creatures flapping about, threatening to consume everyone inside, and the TARDIS half a street away. He'd been able to summon the TARDIS inside with only the key - but it had been a small detail in a larger story, and he'd never fully explained how he'd done it. Clara could only hope the TARDIS could somehow feel her through the key… and would actually agree to come.

"Come on, come on," she muttered, squeezing the key even tighter. She shut her eyes, hoping with everything she had.

The countdown was still ticking. "Ten… nine… eight…"

* * *

"End the mystery," the Doctor repeated. "That's it? Can't you tell me any more?"

The Cloister Wraith stared down at him impassively. The flickering of its face sped up and brightened, becoming almost difficult to look at. Missy and the Doctor were forced to avert their eyes, and when they looked up, the Slider had vanished.

"Well." Missy sniffed, brushing herself off. "That was lovely. Enigmatic, too, I love it when people are enigmatic. And rather handsome, wasn't he?" She made to brush the Doctor off as well, but he dodged her outstretched hand.

"Come on," he said grimly. "There's not much time." And if he was honest, he'd rather not contemplate the implications of seeing his own face on an infamous Cloister Wraith. He strode forward, stepping carefully over the chunks of a fallen stone pillar. Missy followed, dancing around the pieces with her customary lightness.

The Doctor's mood was not improved upon reaching the ancient TARDIS. He ran his hand along the side as they rounded it, feeling the cold metal without much hope. Indeed, the door was covered with what looked like vines - the fiber-optic cables of the Matrix.

He shook his head. "Archived," he muttered. He picked up the trailing end of one vine and tugged on it lightly, but to no avail. "They shouldn't have archived it yet. This is only a Type 38, that's just a few models behind mine. It's not that old. _I'm_ not that old."

"Wouldn't be so sure of that." Missy stared critically at the lifeless machine."Just pull it off, here." She reached around him and yanked on the vines wrapped around the door. The Doctor said nothing, just watched as she recoiled - the cables had given her a nasty shock for her troubles. "Or not." She propped her stinging hands on her hips and turned to him. "Well? I hope you have a backup plan."

"Why is it always me with the backup plan?" the Doctor muttered, one hand darting through his hair in frustration. "You could make a plan for once." He looked around the dusty room, glancing between pillars for something, anything, that could get them off the planet.

"We'll go back, then," he said at last. "There's more than one way into the Cloisters. Some of them are so old even I don't know where they are. If we can find one they haven't covered-"

"It might be a bit late for that, _Doctor."_ Another voice rang through the Cloisters, amplifying as it bounced off the stone. Missy and the Doctor whirled around and felt their hearts sink.

The Lord President himself stood silhouetted against a white pillar of light the Doctor knew to be an elevator up to Arcadia. He was flanked by two council members and half a dozen guards and was radiating smug fury. The Doctor noticed with grim humor that none of the other Gallifreyans would go more than a few footsteps into the darkness of the Cloisters.

"You can't wait forever," Rassilon informed them. "You'll starve eventually. If the Wraiths don't get you first."

Several guards exchanged uncomfortable looks. The Doctor noted it and glanced at Missy, who caught his eye and nodded, confirming what he thought: despite whatever Rassilon might say, there were few who would stand by and watch them die slowly.

"Oh, that's fine," Missy said easily, perching lightly on a fallen column and crossing her legs delicately at the ankles. "We'll have them round for cards or something. Do you think they play poker?" she added in a staged aside to the Doctor.

The guards blinked in surprise. One council member hastily turned a chuckle into a cough. But the Doctor was unamused."What about Clara? Where is she?"

"Clara? You mean your little human?" Rassilon inquired, smirking at the Doctor's irritation. "I've no idea. Does it matter?"

"You mean that's not her?"

All eyes turned to the guard who had spoken out. He swallowed hard.

"Explain," Rassilon ordered.

"I… I was told that the Doctor had escaped with his female companion and the Time Lady Missy had been… had been apprehended."

Missy raised an eyebrow. "Cheeky thing. I like her style."

"What did you do to her?" the Doctor demanded. "Where is she?"

The guard stepped forward, addressing the Doctor rather than his superior. "She's… she's being relocated. To the Outsiders. She might be already gone."

"Confirmation's just come in, sir." Another guard looked up from her communicator. "The relocation went through successfully. She's gone."

There was silence for a long moment. Then the Doctor started to laugh, quietly at first, but soon growing into hearty, deep laughter. The sound was unsettling. Missy stepped back unconsciously, leaving the Time Lord standing alone in the misty darkness.

"You've made a terrible mistake," he said when he'd finished. "You know why? You've underestimated Clara Oswald."

The Doctor stood tall, back in control, confident again. Wind began to blow from some unseen source, and then a familiar whooshing began: the sound of a TARDIS coming in to land. "And trust me, you never make that mistake twice."

Missy darted over to stand next to him, tossing Rassilon a saucy wink as the TARDIS materialized around them. The look of fury on Rassilon's face as he watched his quarry escape was something she would treasure for the rest of her life.

* * *

 **A.N: Hey guys, I'm still here. I swear to you all I am not abandoning this, no matter what it may seem like. This is the part in the semester where all the profs go "Hey remember that project I mentioned at the beginning of the year yeah time to do that," so it's been an interesting few weeks. Again, if you ever feel like I'm falling behind, shoot me a PM or something to spur me on.**

 **Anyway, Cloisters! Fun stuff. We're moving along, as I'm sure you know. I really need something more original to say here. Maybe I'll just say again how much I love your reviews (because that's original) and thank you all again for reading and putting up with my absences!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	27. Determination

"Nice of you to show up," the Doctor said, springing into action as the TARDIS materialized around them. "How'd you get here, anyway?"

"She helped," Clara answered, patting the side of the console. She stepped aside to allow the Doctor access. "We managed to… set aside our differences. You're a priority."

"I'm flattered." He gave her a quick hug, a rarity for the taciturn Time Lord, then was back to the controls, programming with a haste bordering on hysteria. "Good to see you."

"And you." She grinned.

Missy stood near the door, looking around. She nodded in approval. "You've redecorated. I like it. So where to next, then?"

"You tell us." Clara turned her attention to their unwelcome guest, propping her hands on her hips. "Madame Miss's base. Where is it?"

"Oh, that. Well, I suppose I owe you. It's on a little rock called Demon's Run."

The Doctor's hands froze on the controls. "What did you say?"

"Demon's Run," Missy repeated, looking bored. "Crummy sort of place, really. Very military."

Clara, however, couldn't help but notice the Doctor's sudden anxiety. "Doctor? What's Demon's Run?"

"That can't be a coincidence," he murmured, then, at Clara's questioning look, "I have a lot of history there. Very little of it good. 'Demons run when a good man goes to war.' If that's where she's chosen to hole up… She knows me too well."

Again, Clara was tempted to demand to know who this mysterious 'she' was exactly, but instead she said, "Okay. So we'll go to Demon's Run, then."

"Yes." The Doctor straightened up, fear wiped from his face, and turned to Missy. "But you're not coming with us."

The Time Lady put a hand to her heart in delicate astonishment. "What? Why not?" She seemed surprised, but Clara could tell she hadn't been expecting to be allowed to come. "I thought we'd be sailing off among the stars, hand in hand, just like when we were children." She winked. "Certain you won't reconsider?"

"Clara, where did they keep you?" the Doctor asked, ignoring Missy completely. "Relocation, was it?"

"What, don't you have some kind of search history?" Clara was only half joking. "I came straight from there. Why?"

Missy, however, had put it together. "Doctor. You wouldn't really patch me off to live with the Outsiders."

"I can and I will." His tone brooked no argument.

"But they're so _crude!"_

The Doctor shrugged. "You're name's already in the records. I'd hate to have somebody lose their job over it."

Missy looked from one unsympathetic face to the other and smiled, albeit weakly. "Oh, honestly now. You wouldn't _really_ just toss me out like that."

* * *

In a room not far from the relocation chamber, two guards watched their monitors in astonishment as a blue box materialized around their petite prisoner, then faded from view. Their astonishment grew when the box began to reappear. This time, one door swung open and a woman was pushed out. Not the same woman, either. She staggered slightly, but before she could regain her footing, the box was once again vanishing.

One guard looked at the other, an obvious question in his eyes. His partner shrugged, then typed a few commands into the computer. An image popped up: an oddly flirtatious mugshot.

 _Time Lady: Missy. Prisoner of Arcadia._ The photo definitely matched this new woman.

The partner shrugged again. As long as everything matched up, he could relax. The two watched contentedly as the room flashed white, then nodded at the empty screen and moved on to other things, the oddity already forgotten.

* * *

Light years away, another pair of watchers looked up from a screen, one excited, the other impassive.

"They're coming. They're actually, finally coming. How long has it been?"

"Time is a construct," the other woman replied, twining a golden curl around her finger. "Especially for you."

Her companion waved a hand dismissively. "You would say that. Too long, at the very least. Maybe even longer."

"Will it be soon enough? Time is running out, you know. For you, for the universe, for reality itself." The woman eyed her carefully. "This will be a very costly reunion."

"Doesn't matter." The girl spoke with conviction, her eyes feverishly bright. "I don't care anymore. You can just fix it all anyway."

"And what about you?" she inquired. "What if when I 'fix it,' this meeting never occurs? What's to stop you from beginning all over again, like you did last time?"

"It won't." She was past reason, past listening. The other woman wondered: _How long will it take before she stops caring at all?_

"Be careful," she said instead. "Reality can only be glued back together so many times before it shatters completely, so completely even I can't fix it."

"Whatever it takes. Nothing is more valuable than this."

"To you, perhaps," the woman said, but her comment went unheeded.

One screen hummed to life, showing a familiar blue box landing on the main deck. The girl smiled, but there was something not right about it. Something that ceased to be human. "Come. Let us go and greet our guests."

* * *

 **A.N: Yes, it's short. Trust me, it's better this way. Literally the next chapter begins the end - and I have been planning this ending for literal months. It is going to be intense. A note for your enjoyment: appreciation of what is upcoming will be greatly enhanced if you are familiar with the game Undertale, as I am borrowing from some of its themes (particularly the genocide route). If you don't know it, I highly recommend either playing it or watching a playthrough. You will not be sorry, and a lot will make sense. If all goes well, a lot will make sense to everyone in the next few chapters. Who's the hero and who's the villain? You tell me.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	28. The Mystery Revealed

The Doctor was out the door as soon as the TARDIS had fully materialized, Clara right behind him. They emerged into a large, open room, almost like a warehouse. It was dusty with disuse - clearly this wasn't the Madame's main area.

"Doctor, where are we really?" Clara asked, her voice hushed. The slightest sound echoed through the emptiness.

"Demons run when a good man goes to war." He sounded like he was quoting something. "Night will fall and drown the sun…" He paused, then took a deep breath. "There was a battle here. Ages ago. And I didn't win, but I thought I had. I'd forgotten…"

Clara blinked. She didn't like the look on her friend's face: he seemed ready for a fight.

"Madame Miss!" he called suddenly. His voice rang, bouncing back to him. "You've made me very cross."

"I know I seem young, Doctor, but that's no reason to treat me like a child."

The new voice echoed too - so much that they couldn't be sure where it had come from. Clara didn't recognize it, and based on the Doctor's baffled expression, he didn't either. It was a woman's voice, that much she could tell.

But no, even that was wrong. A door across the room slid open, and Clara saw that their mysterious host was not a woman, but a girl. She looked about fourteen years old - short, dark-skinned, with a mass of unruly gold-streaked curls that quivered as she began to walk towards them. As she got closer, they could see her eyes were a matching gold.

She wasn't beautiful, Clara decided. Her chin was a bit too strong, her eyes were a bit too big - but her appearance was striking and memorable. Clara felt certain that if she'd seen this person before, she would know.

The Doctor smiled politely. "Ah, the legendary Madame Miss. I've always wanted to meet you."

The girl walked up and patted his grizzled cheek fondly. "Oh, my dear Doctor. You already have." The gesture was odd from one so young to one so old.

"So I've heard." The Doctor pulled out his sonic sunglasses and slipped them on, scanning the girl briefly. He was stunned when she pulled out a device of her own, one that made a similar sound to his own.

"Sonic spyglass," she explained, peering through the lense and scanning him upside down. "I modified it from the first telescope I ever bought."

"Sonic spyglass? Who's got a sonic spyglass?"

"Well, who's got sonic sunglasses?" the girl retorted. "What's wrong with a screwdriver?"

Clara raised an eyebrow. Missy had been right - this mysterious girl _did_ know the Doctor, and she spoke like he should know her as well. Something about her did seem vaguely familiar. Clara just couldn't put her finger on what it was.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Really? Why should we know who you are?"

Their host seemed to come back to herself, collapsing the telescope and storing it in an inner pocket. "Of course. Where are my manners? Please, do come in. We've been preparing for you."

 _We?_ Clara mouthed at the Doctor as they followed the girl through a series of hallways. The Doctor shrugged.

"I don't know," he murmured, "but look at this." He pointed to some of the paneling set into the walls. "See? That's tech from all over the galaxy, all over time. None of this belongs together."

"Just like the Dalek ship," Clara breathed, remembering.

"Exactly. None of your students could do this alone. No matter who this girl is, she had to have had help." The obvious question hung in the air: Who?

"In here." The girl led them through a pair of sliding doors into a surprisingly cozy living room, not at all the sort of thing one expects to find on an abandoned asteroid. Several couches, arm chairs, and bean bags were scattered around the space, with colored lamps and thick carpet. Along one wall was a long wooden table, heavily laid with what Clara assumed must be food. She recognized little of it, but snagged what looked like a lemon tart. The Doctor, however, was all business.

"Who are you?" he asked again. "No more dodging. And don't just say 'Madame Miss,' nobody's actually called 'Madame'." He paused a moment, considering. "Unless you just had really rubbish parents, I suppose."

Something tightened in the girl's face, but when she did answer, her tone was light. "I've been called so many things over the years. Befriender of the Friendless, Deceiver of Nations, She of the Hidden Smile, Earthwalker, Soulsinger, Storyteller, Hurricane, Meddler, sometimes Doctor. Elizabeth, once," she added with a nostalgic smile.

"All that and you went with 'Madame Miss?' I find that hard to believe," Clara said skeptically.

Her smile grew. "I fit with the misfits. I am order in chaos and chaos in order. No one knows what to think of me, what to do with me, and so they call me what I am: a Mystery."

The Doctor's eyes widened, all suspicions confirmed, then frowned in confusion. "Madame Miss?"

She sighed with no little irritation. "People are constantly misspelling it," she explained. "It's Madame _Mys."_

Clara, a few seconds behind, stared at the young girl before her as understanding dawned. "It can't be."

Mystery smiled. "Hello, Clara. How long has it been?"

After a moment of shock, Clara rounded on the Doctor. "You told me she was dead! At the Shadow Proclamation, you said she'd died!"

"She might as well have!" he protested, backing up half a step. "I thought she had. The only way to keep her safe was to send her to Earth and give her a new set of memories, a new life. I never thought we'd find her again. I did look for you," he added earnestly to Mystery. "I swear. I just didn't know where to begin."

Mystery raised an eyebrow. "Mmhmm. Well, your plan to keep me safe worked a little too well, didn't it?"

"I can't believe it." Clara was stunned. "I thought I'd never see you again." Her first instinct was to hug her long-lost friend, but something in Mystery's eyes held her back.

The Doctor shook his head, pain in his eyes. "How long has it been? Really, how long?"

"A few centuries, maybe more." She shrugged. "It's so difficult to keep track when all of time bends to your will."

"And after all that time, you still remembered us." It wasn't a question.

"Well, I tried not to. Remembering hurts." Her tone was level, light. "But it just wasn't working, and I knew I wasn't going to get any peace until I found you."

"What- Oh. The Moment. So you did steal it." The Doctor eyed her impassively. "I think you'd better start from the beginning."

* * *

 **A.N: Wow. Less than 24 hours. Can you tell I'm excited? I'm actually copying huge chunks of this straight out of my outline, that's how long I've been planning this. I'm sure none of you are very surprised, but tell me I'm at least a little bit clever. Hands up, who guessed the Madame Mys? That's what I thought.**

 **For the Shadow Proclamation bit, if you're confused, I'm referencing the ending of my first Mystery story, Mystery Girl. If you haven't read it, get out of here and do it. Also, this is your last warning: if you haven't read the other story One Moment, you really really need to now. Seriously, people. I'm bringing in details that will make no sense if you haven't read it.**

 **Okay, that's all. See you when I do (which will probably be soon, at this rate). Leave a review to encourage me on a speed run here!**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	29. Being Alone

"The beginning." Mystery laughed. "You're asking me for a beginning? Me, of all people."

"Start somewhere, then," said Clara, sinking into a chair. "Anywhere."

"Your regeneration," the Doctor suggested, sitting down as well. "How was that?"

Mystery considered that a moment. "Unexpected," she said at last. "My entire life on Earth, my memories of you were gone. As soon as the regeneration started, though, everything came flooding back." Her eyes glazed over, remembering. "Once I realized what had happened, I knew I had to leave. I had a new face, a new life, but no new paperwork to go with it. No identity, no family, no citizenship. I looked too young to start a family or find a job, even though I had lived for nearly a century. I wasn't even sure I would age. I hold a Ph.D, for time's sake. What was I supposed to do, go to primary school with my grandchildren?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."

"You've got grandchildren?" Clara asked in fascinated disbelief. It was hard to imagine a person with such a young face having descendants. Mystery smiled fondly, reminiscing.

"One. And a great-granddaughter. I use to visit them from time to time. Then it got too hard." She glanced at the Doctor. "I'm sure you know what I mean.

"I died in 2071," she continued matter-of-factly. "Or, I thought I did. Then I woke up in a hospital room looking like this, unable to explain to anyone how I got there, with a headful of memories that hadn't been mine in more than sixty years. I lived to be almost ninety. I thought that was old." She shrugged. "I had to leave. Not just England, either - I knew there was no place for me on Earth."

"How did you get off the planet?" the Doctor asked, his expression guarded.

Waving a hand dismissively, Mystery explained, "Oh, Torchwood. I met them once, not that you'd remember. I told them my situation, convinced them that I was an alien who just wanted to go home. They believed me. As well they should have," she added. "I wasn't lying."

"So what then?" Clara wanted to know. "You didn't just come straight here."

"I spent a lot of time wandering. Sightseeing. Being myself again, or at least the self I used to be. I hitchhiked for a while, until it got easier to just take ships. I can get into anything that's DNA coded, and you'd be surprised how common that is." She grinned.

Clara frowned, puzzled for a moment, then remembered: Mystery's DNA was a combination of every species the TARDIS had ever encountered, a mix of everything stored in its databanks. Any ship that required a species match to run would likely have no problem with Mystery.

"Eventually, I had enough tech at my disposal that I just had to do something with it. So I started helping out. Just little things at first, you know, and then bigger and bigger as I got better. It didn't always work out like I planned," she added with a slight grimace. "No good deed goes unpunished, I suppose."

An ironic chuckle from the Doctor. "You don't need to tell me."

Mystery acknowledge his point. "People have written stories about me, you know." She strolled over to the banquet table, picking up one alien delicacy after another and setting them down distractedly. "All of the galaxy. Nice, neat stories where good always conquers evil." With a wry grin, she added, "I don't always win. It's a shame, though, isn't it?" she said suddenly. "There's no guarantee of a happy ending in real life. Somebody should always come out happy, even if it isn't me."

"That's a good philosophy," Clara said cautiously. Something about Mystery's tone and the way she looked at her now set her on edge.

"Is it?" Mystery seemed to consider Clara's words. "Maybe it is. I don't believe it anymore."

"But then you realized there _was_ a way," the Doctor continued quietly. "To rewrite the ending as many times as you needed to get it right."

"You mean the Moment?" Mystery asked, amused. "Yes, alright, I stole her- it. You Time Lords are so funny. All your cameras and sensors and force fields, guarding against every bit of technology, every TARDIS, and it was all no match for a girl with a hairpin." She laughed. "I just walked right in. You always think everything has to be grand and complicated."

"And then you started using it," confirmed the Doctor. He too seemed slightly uncomfortable, as if still waiting for a battle to begin. Only Mystery appeared completely comfortable.

"Well, of course. The power not just to travel in time, but to control it, to stop it, reverse it, rewrite it, destroy it. I spent decades soaring through the universe, fixing things, righting wrongs, and trying again and again until it worked out well for everybody who mattered. And slowly that became just me. How did you think I got such a tremendous reputation?"

She paused in her perusal of the buffet, smiling emotionlessly. "People just get so predictable. What will they say if I do this? How will they react if I say this to them? Once you know the answer, that's it: there's no more mystery to it. And what would I be without mystery?"

Neither Clara nor the Doctor were sure if it was meant to be a joke.

"I've tried everything," she said with quiet intensity. "Replayed every interaction, over and over, just to see what would happen. To make sure I knew every possibility. They never remembered what I did before a reset, so what did it matter? I was the only one who kept existing, kept remembering."

"That must have been horrible," Clara whispered.

"Mmm. Maybe." Her answer was decidedly noncommittal. "And then I ran out of good options. So I started wondering: what would happen if I hurt someone? Or killed someone?" She glanced up at her enraptured audience. "I mean, if could reverse it. I could bring them back to life. There was no lasting harm done. So why not?"

Another beat, another pause, then a shrug and a smile. "And eventually, people stopped seeming like people. They felt like puppets: pull the string and watch them dance. And I knew exactly what every string did. So what was the point?"

"You had no right." The Doctor's eyes were like blades: hard, sharp, and cold. "Resetting someone's life doesn't wipe away ruining it. How much blood is on your hands?"

Mystery met his gaze, unmoved, her own expression hardening. "The last time I played this through, I killed you, Doctor," she said, her tone level. "And the time before that. I will get this right eventually, but now does not have to be that time. I have more time than has ever existed." She held his eyes a moment more, then nodded, the threat given and received.

A shiver went down Clara's spine. The girl - woman - who had once been among her dearest friends had just admitted to murdering the Doctor multiple times, without even blinking. How much time had she spent doing and redoing her life? More importantly… what had that done to her mind?

* * *

 **A.N: I'm not really sure what to say. I sort of feel like I'm being watched. Rest assured I am just as creeped as you are. Yes, friends, this is Mystery.**

 **Please please leave a review, because I feel like I've just experienced something powerful and I want to talk about it with somebody.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	30. Being Alive

"You can rest assured, however," Mystery said into the sudden silence, "that I will find a good ending to this. Doctor, I know I'm only one of many to you, but you two are everything to me. And I knew that you don't find the Doctor, the Doctor finds you. I spent ages arriving just too late. I was there in the Gamma Forests, watching you run by. I celebrated New Year's with the long-necked people, and they wouldn't shut up about you. Oh-" She ducked out of sight briefly, returning with a pair of sunglasses, and tossed them to Clara. "I think these are yours."

Clara caught them, staring in disbelief. Of all things…

"And eventually I figured out I had to create a puzzle," she continued. "Something big enough, serious enough, that you'd come running on your own. People in danger, something alien, you know what I mean. Big enough that would get your attention without getting me killed." She grinned wryly. "Phenomenal cosmic power doesn't do you any good if you're dead. So I used the Moment to control the Possibilities and blackmail them into capturing you. I used it to sweep the universe for lost Daleks and bring them all together. I knew someone on Gallifrey could figure it out."

"Well, you were right," the Doctor said heavily. "Congratulations." He looked at her carefully. "You're very different than when we last met."

"Oh, and you aren't? Look at you, all Scottish and grey," she shot back.

The Doctor shook his head. "That wasn't what I meant."

"I was so alone, Doctor," she said, tone suddenly pleading. "And so scared, for so long. I waited and waited and waited." She shrugged helplessly. "But nobody came. And eventually I couldn't wait anymore. I left. I traveled. I have seen the stars and found them wanting, because I saw them alone."

"Why didn't you ever find someone?" Clara asked, struggling to understand. "You didn't have to be alone."

"I didn't have a choice!" she screamed, turning away in sudden fury. It looked wrong on such a young face. "Don't you get it? Everyone I meet knows there's something not quite right about me. I am every species and no species, everything and nothing. Even in a crowd, I am completely alone. And there's a difference between alone and lonely. No one ever tells you that 'one of a kind' is just a nice phrase for 'completely alone'."

She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "No one trusted me enough to travel with me. They either knew I was holding something back or they were horrified by what I was. Either afraid or in awe. People always fear what they can't understand. And even the few that would…" Mystery shook her head. "I can't stop them from being reset along with everyone else. And if they can't remember everything we do together, then what's the point?"

"So your solution was to find us?" The Doctor frowned. "Well done, then. We're here."

"I wanted to find people like me, people who knew what it was like to live outside of time." The Doctor had understood her explanation, but still Mystery felt compelled to say more. "I wanted to get back to the people I knew cared about me, and knew me, and weren't just afraid of me." She sighed. "I didn't know I was addicted to mattering to people until suddenly I didn't."

The Doctor chuckled. "Needing people," he observed, "that's very human."

"Really?" Mystery raised an eyebrow. "I was thinking I got it from you."

In the sudden silence that followed, Clara watched her friends' faces carefully. Her initial fear and anger was turning to sadness and pity - and a hint of guilt. She had to wonder: if she were in Mystery's place… would she have done any different? What would it take for people to stop seeming valuable?

"Alright then," the Doctor said at last. "We're here. You win. You got me." He stretched out on the couch, folding his arms behind his head. "Now what?"

Mystery blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Now what?" the Doctor repeated. "You've got us in your power. Nobody's dead yet, that has to count for something. What's the plan?"

"Did you think things could go back to how they were?" Mystery was so used to that voice popping up behind her that she didn't flinch. "Before you changed?"

"He changed!" she hissed, turning away from her visitors. Clara looked confused, though the Doctor seemed to have a good idea of what was going on. "He changed first, and he left me behind! Clara's still with him, so it's not that. I'm trying to change it back!"

The Moment shook her head, visible only to Mystery. "As if you could. I've been trying to warn you. Even with everything you've reversed, there are some things that can't be changed. Too much has happened. And besides…" Bad Wolf eyed her carefully, a knowing smile creeping onto her face. "I don't think you would even if you could. Not really. Not to them."

"What if I refused to take you?" the Doctor asked, as if he could hear what the Moment was saying. "What if we just left? What would you do? Kill us? Take the TARDIS?"

"Doctor-" Clara hissed. She wasn't sure provoking the girl was a wise move.

"Don't plan the plan if you can't follow through." He stood up, bearing down on Mystery now. The height difference was considerable. "We're at your mercy. You win. Now _what are you going to do about it?"_

She stared up at him, mouth slightly open, at a loss for words. The Doctor watched her for a second, waiting, then turned away in disgust. The Moment was standing behind him, watching Mystery too. Mystery found herself unable to meet her gaze.

"You know what you've done?" The Time Lord's voice was level, his back to her. "You let bitterness, and anger, and resentment get in the way of friendship and love. You forgot what matters, and you forgot how to let it matter."

"And can you blame me?" Mystery cried, finding her voice. "With everything I've been through?"

"Yes," he said flatly, turning to face her. "Yes, I can. You know why?"

Answers sprang to her tongue: _Because you think I'm a monster. Because you don't care about me. Because blaming me is easier than helping me._

"Because you think you're special."

Mystery stared at him in shock. _What?_

"The universe is not _kind_ to anyone," he explained, catching her eyes and holding them tight. "Any idiot with half a brain could spend their entire life crying and still have more to cry about. But then you're just miserable."

"Aren't I allowed to be miserable?" Mystery shot back. She felt her control slipping, of the situation and of her own emotions, and she fought back with every ounce of anger she had.

The Moment laughed. "Is anyone stopping you?"

"Not when you think your misery is any more important than anyone else's. Not when this is what you turn into," the Doctor insisted. "Not when people need you to be better."

"What people?" she demanded. "You? Clara? All those people I tried to help and made things worse for? I've hurt too many people, Doctor. It's not worth trying anymore. Trying hurts."

" _Living_ hurts. Everything hurts. Existence means exposing yourself to hurt, and pain, and regret. The trick is knowing if what you're doing is worth it."

"And how the hell do I know that?"

"You do what you've been doing," Clara said, entering the conversation. "Guessing and finding out what works. Bigger actions mean bigger consequences, and you have the potential to do the biggest actions imaginable. And it's not your fault," she added, walking over to Mystery and laying a hand on her arm. "You were different from the beginning. That's everybody's fault. But you still have to deal with it."

"Why?" Clara's hand was still on her arm. Mystery felt like she should pull away, but it had been so long since anyone had touched her with love. "I didn't control this, I didn't want this. It's so much… What if it's too much? Who gets to say it isn't?"

"It isn't fair," the Doctor said gently, seeing her walls beginning to crumble. "That's the real problem. And Mystery… I understand."

And he did. He really did. Damn him. Mystery looked at the Time Lord who had once been the closest thing she had to a family and saw the pain of shared experience in his eyes. Older and wiser, indeed. He really understood, and he didn't condemn her.

And Mystery, terror of galaxies, broke down.

* * *

 **A.N: Hey guys. I'm back. I can only ignore responsibilities for so long. My semester ends in two weeks, though, so then I'm all yours. I have news, though - there is now cover art for this story! Which is exciting. I don't know if you can see it on mobile, but you should check it out.**

 **So a lot of you are very displeased with me for allowing Mystery to grow as I did. I get that. I do have reasons, of course - you all have known me long enough to know I never do things without good reason - and I will detail those reasons here. It's going to be a rather involved explanation, so buckle up. Also, spoilers for season 9.**

 **In the past companion arcs, particularly with RTD's era, we can see the companion slowly becoming more and more like the Doctor, often with one definitive moment where they "become" the Doctor. For Rose, it was accepting the TARDIS and becoming Bad Wolf. For Donna, it was the Metacrisis. We can see that arc the clearest in Clara - and it culminates in her dying. And in her case particularly, we can see how dangerous that was for the Doctor. He got reckless.**

 **Also, we can see what happens to the Doctor when he is alone. In episodes like The Waters of Mars, The Wedding of River Song, and Hell Bent, we see how unhinged and scary he gets. The rules stop applying, people stop mattering. Without a companion with a human's perspective to hold him back, he goes and goes and goes forever, with no limitations, until he has what he wants or something brings him down.**

 **Mystery's moment (no pun intended) was in stealing the Moment - a direct parallel to the Doctor himself. From that point, she has all the power he has and more, but none of the experience and wisdom. In addition, where the Doctor was the weight of the guilt of the Time War to contend with, Mystery has no real ties to anything. She's already told us how she no longer fit in anywhere on Earth. In this chapter, we saw how she is rejected by every other species as well. The Doctor alone, but with less rules. Can you see how dangerous that would be?**

 **Mystery has nothing and no one to pull her back. Her goal now is to get back to the Doctor and Clara and find a life where she fits and can be happy. How can she do that without being honest with them? But how can she be honest and still hope they won't hate her? She's been alone and afraid for so many years, it must be hard to even interact with people meaningfully.**

 **Essentially, I think Mystery finding her dark side was inevitable. Because I do really believe that she isn't inherently dark or twisted - I think that anyone put in the same situation would end up doing the same. I am fascinated by the depths of human nature, and Mystery is a very unique way of exploring that.**

 **I am also borrowing heavily for this idea from the game Undertale, which I mentioned before. One idea of that game is that all it takes for someone to be willing to go on a killing spree is the knowledge that the victims are characters and their deaths are impermanent. Certainly many of you have done that. Are the deaths any less permanent for Mystery? And can any of us say we wouldn't do the same?**

 **-Forever the Optimist**

 **P.S: The sunglasses thing is from the very beginning of Under the Lake, when Clara mentions having left her sunglasses (and her dignity) on the planet Mystery mentions. The Gamma Forests are references in A Good Man Goes to War.**

 **P.P.S: There is an Aladdin reference here. I will answer any question in PM posed to me by the first person to correctly identify it.**


	31. Nothing

"Oh, please not the crying," the Doctor muttered, rubbing his eyes. "I can't stand the crying."

Clara shot him a disgusted look. She stepped forward, still cautious, and put her arms around Mystery. The girl collapsed into her, melting into her embrace as she hadn't in centuries. Clara was reminded suddenly of the very first time they had met Mystery, when she had appeared in the TARDIS with no warning and no memories. She had cried then, too, and Clara had felt that same urge to comfort and protect her.

Now, of course, she knew how ridiculously backwards that idea truly was.

"Hey," she whispered, so Mystery had to calm her breathing to hear her. "It will be okay. No, it will," she added when Mystery looked up at her with disbelieving watery eyes. Clara was taken aback for a second. The ice, the hardness, the cruelty that had been in those eyes just moments before… gone. These were eyes she knew - or were at least closer.

"Really," she continued. "I know losing people hurts." She laughed bitterly. "Believe me, I know. Especially people you love. It means they're leaving you, whether they mean to or not. Losing people…" She glanced up at the Doctor. His eyes were solemn. "It's the story of everyone. That doesn't make your pain any less than anyone else's, but it doesn't make it any more, either." She hugged Mystery tighter. "But it still hurts."

"Mystery." The Doctor knelt down beside the pair, resting a hand on Mystery's shaking shoulder. "I'm sorry, but I need to know: what exactly is wrong with time?"

Mystery pulled back, wiping her eyes. The tears were already clearing - she hadn't cried in ages. What exactly was wrong with time? She wasn't sure she knew.

She opened her mouth to try to explain, but stopped when she saw the Moment over the Doctor's shoulder. The blonde woman smiled. "Tell them what I say. They don't need to know I'm here." She glanced at the Time Lord. "He doesn't need to see me like this."

After a second's consideration, Mystery nodded. Bad Wolf smiled, then turned to the Doctor. "The Time War is continuing. Time is trapped in an endless loop and it is Mystery's fault."

The Doctor didn't blink - of course, he couldn't hear her. It fell to Mystery to repeat what was said. She felt the Moment's expectant gaze on her and cleared her throat. "Um… time is looped, I guess, and that's making the Time War go on… longer than it should…" She was hesitant to say the rest, but suspected whatever she had to say wouldn't change her friends' opinions of her now. "And it's my fault."

The Moment continued before any of them had a chance to react. "When she stole me, she created a paradox."

She was speaking to the Doctor still. Mystery took a second to be glad Bad Wolf didn't have actual emotions - having the Doctor look right through her would kill her.

"A massive loop, an open circuit. The power is rushing through, building up, and eventually the battery is going to explode."

"What's the battery?" the Doctor asked after Mystery had repeated it all. His voice was all business. She swallowed hard.

"This reality. Space and time."

Clara chuckled dryly. "No pressure."

"Because I have the Moment," Mystery explained, shadowing Bad Wolf's voice in her ear, "you, Doctor, couldn't take it. So you, or the past you, couldn't use it to stop the Time War, which means you never stopped fighting in it. That alse means you can't have kept it, and Missy couldn't have stolen it from you at the Shadow Proclamation, which means… oh." Her eyes widened, and she couldn't help looking at the Moment in surprise. "I could never have been… born. So then I couldn't have taken it, and on and on."

"It's like when you go back in time and kill your grandfather," Clara said slowly, glancing at the Doctor to be sure she understood. "Or, stolen, I guess."

"And did you know all of this?" the Doctor asked, seemingly unsurprised by her revelation. She grimaced. Knowing him, he'd probably put half of it together before he ever stepped in the room.

"Um… parts? Not in that much detail. Not when I took it, at least. I underestimated the size of the war, the effects…" Her stomach churned with sudden guilt. She almost didn't recognize the feeling, it had been so long. In truth, she had known more than she was letting on. She just hadn't cared.

The Doctor shook his head. "Everyone does," he muttered. "That's why we have wars."

"These fractures aren't just from the war, you know," the Moment said quietly, suddenly behind her. Mystery jumped, forcing herself not to turn around. "They're from you. You are a space-time event that isn't meant to exist, and your very being frays at the edges of the universe."

Mystery opened her mouth to repeat that, but Bad Wolf appeared in front of her, laying a finger on Mystery's lips. Her hand felt warm, almost feverish. Mystery reached out to touch her cheek - she was burning up.

"But you can fix it, right?" Clara glanced from the Doctor to Mystery and back again, smiling uncertainly. "I mean, you've got the Moment. I thought that could fix anything."

The Doctor hesitated before answering, looking deliberately away from Mystery. "It can," he said at last, "solve any problem. In this case, though… the easiest solution… the best solution is to make the problem go away. For good."

It took approximately half a second for the realization of what he was saying to connect in Mystery's brain. Later she would wonder if she'd already figured it out. To both of her guests' surprise, she began to laugh.

"Well, of course. How else could this have ended?" She shook her head, still smiling. "A story like this, a life like mine, needs a proper ending. A good climax. How was I ever going to come down from this? Settle down after I've had the universe in my hand for so long? No."

"Hold on." Clara held up a hand, staring at the Doctor in consternation. "What are you saying? Make the problem go away?"

"He means me," Mystery explained. "Erase me. Just stop, right at the high point." She shrugged. "My reputation is spreading, after all. No one survives long with reknown that large. It could be worse. At least this way the legacy I leave will be of someone willing to step up and do what must be done."

"Except you won't leave a legacy," the Doctor broke in. "You won't have anything. 'You' will not be anything. You will not ever have been anything. Past, present, and future. It's not just because of what you've been doing," he went on at their confusion. "That didn't help, of course. But you were born out of a paradox."

Clara crossed her arms, a firm defender. "So? You must make plenty of paradoxes. Why is she different?"

"If she had died when a human should have, the problem would have resolved itself." He was speaking to Clara, but looking at Mystery. "But she didn't. So it kept growing. Now the only way to close it is for it to never have opened." He smiled sadly. "Legacies live on through stories, and hers can't be told."

"Don't be ridiculous." Clara took her hand again, standing at Mystery's side. Mystery wondered if she realized how symbolic the gesture was. "There has to be another way. I mean, we've only just found you again. There's so many new things about you we won't get to know, and so many old things we won't get to remember. Like the way you fight tooth and nail to create an identity out of something most people can't even comprehend. Or, I don't know, the way you put way too much sugar in your tea. The way your laugh interrupts your sentence like you just can't wait any longer to be happy, and the smile grows out of the shape of your words. Look, you still do it!"

Mystery looked down to hide her smile. She had missed Clara.

"You're just as precious as anything in the universe," Clara argued, pressing Mystery's hand between her own. "Why should we lose you?"

The Moment appeared again, on Mystery's other side. She held out her hand, a direct parallel to Clara. Somehow Mystery knew that to take one would be to let go of the other forever.

"Because…" She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Because some stories are worth telling, and some aren't. And we choose which ones are worth telling by which ones stay with us. And maybe mine was worth telling - to you, at least, and to anyone who listened. But…"

Another pause, longer. Mystery scrolled back through the past centuries, looking at as many faces as she could remember. There weren't many. "But I don't think it's worth telling any more. There are so many others that will make better stories. I pick them." She laughed again. "Really, I'm lucky. How many people get to make that choice?"

Clara opened her mouth to argue again, but something in Mystery's too-young eyes made her stop. She sighed and shook her head. "You and him both," she said. "Once you've decided something, nothing stops you."

"Nor should it." The Doctor sighed as well. "Clara, I don't like this anymore than you do, believe me. Endings are… unpleasant." He stopped, as though remembering something. "Traveling in time, you start to think that endings are never really permanent, that people you lose can always come back somehow. I forget that's not always the case."

Mystery smiled. "You won't even be sad. With nothing to remember, there's nothing left to grieve." Carefully, she slipped her hand out of Clara's. "I wanted a happy ending, but happy endings don't just happen by happenstance, not in real life. You have to go make them happen. And I've already shown I don't know how to do that. Maybe a story without an ending is better."

The Doctor moved towards her, and for a second Mystery thought he was going to try to stop her - but he took Clara's arm and pulled her away, slipping his arm around her shoulder. She was crying, Mystery saw.

"Be brave," he said quietly. Mystery wanted to tell him that she wasn't brave, not really. She was scared, yes, but more scared of facing whatever came next, more scared of trying to carve out a place for herself. This was helpful cowardice, but she was glad she could pretend.

The two of them standing together looked like a family portrait, and Mystery allowed herself a heartbeat to imagine herself standing with them. But she knew in her heart that she fit no better there than she had anywhere else.

The Moment stood beside her, hand outstretched. With a deep breath - her last- Mystery took it. "Goodbye. I love you."

She felt a hot hand squeeze her own - one last encouragement. Then everything was golden light. And then there was nothing

* * *

 **A.N: The end. Just kidding. You know me well enough to know that nothing is ever as straightforward as it seems. Hold on to your doubts for one more chapter, if you please, and then you may let me have it.**

 **I feel the need to mention: I'm starting to get worried that this feels too much like a suicide to lessen someone else's burden. Please don't take this like that, that's not at all what I meant. I think the difference is that because Mystery won't ever have existed, she can't be missed and won't be causing people any pain, whereas in suicides that is not the case. Please, please don't. People care about you, I promise, no matter what you might think. They care about the way you fight, and the sugar you put in your tea, and the way you smile. Believe me.**

 **My friends, we are almost done. Let's finish together.**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	32. An Unexpected Departure

Clara doubled over, her laughter filling the TARDIS. "And then those ghost things, I told you they couldn't be real!"

"Two ghosts in a row, it could happen," the Doctor observed. He smiled contentedly. Clara Oswald and the Doctor in the TARDIS, just like it should be.

"Oh, you were so scared," she giggled. "When that holographic hippo showed up behind you? Mind you, I'd no idea they could be so fierce."

He raised one grey eyebrow. "I find the unexpected things to be most dangerous."

"Good thing you've got me, then." She smirked, then flopped back against the console. "I'm starving, are you starving? Let's go eat."

"Now, there's an idea." The Doctor reached around her and pressed down a lever. "I know a great restaurant at the end of the universe. One end, anyway. Never could remember which."

Clara laughed, but something about it rang hollow. She paused, looking around the TARDIS. Something felt… off.

"There's one where all the waiters have wheels instead of feet," the Doctor continued, seemingly oblivious to her sudden discontent. "Very smooth service, but you want to wear a raincoat. They have problems with brakes. Or a zero-gravity buffet, you just grab the food as it goes by. Trust me, you haven't lived until you've had a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster. And Clara?"

She glanced up at him, his question pulling her out of her thoughts.

"I can probably talk for longer than your lifetime, so if you've got something to say, might as well say it."

She frowned. "Did we… Did something happen?"

"Something happen?" He looked over at her, the smile sliding off his face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… I don't know." Clara shook her head, trying to clear away the confusion. "It's like… it's like when you walk into a room and forget what you went in there for. Did we have anything scheduled?"

"My day planner's been propping open a vent in the swimming pool for the past half dozen centuries," he informed her, looking down at the console. "What's a schedule to a Time Lord?"

"Right." She felt uncertain, a feeling compounded by her uncertainty about what she felt uncertain about. "Sorry, it's just… I don't know. It feels like an ending."

The Doctor hit a last button and pulled a lever, sending the TARDIS into flight. "Well, it's not a beginning. Everything I do began ages ago. We begin at the end. Besides," he added with a grin, "endings are where the fun starts: what's happened is over, and the rest is up to you."

Clara nodded. Already her uneasiness was passing. Everything would be alright, she was certain. If this whatever-it-is was really important, it was bound to show up again. For now, restaurants. "The end of the universe," she said with a grin. "Why not?"

Clara Oswald and the Doctor in the TARDIS, just like it should be.

* * *

 _It was odd: you'd think nonexistence would be brighter._

 _Why was everything still dark?_

 _I was walking - I think - down a path that I was somehow intimately familiar with. Like walking through a house you've lived in all your life. The lights are all off and everyone else is sleeping, and you pick your way through, avoiding the chairs and the cat to find your way._

 _Except it's not walking, not exactly. Walking implies I have legs. I'm not sure about that. I just know that_ I _am here._

 _I feel like I've been walking through this darkness for ages, but there's no way to measure time here. Time means nothing. I thought I lived outside of time before, but I was only kidding myself. What is a second, a century, when everything is black._

 _Why can I feel anything? Shouldn't even this confusion be impossible? If I've ceased to exist…_

 _And now, finally, there's something up ahead. A golden light, a color I am way too familiar with. I run towards it, looking for something that would break this oppressive monotony._

 _Two steps more and I recognize it: a glowing bubble, made of millions upon millions of woven strands of light. The outside of the consciousness of the Moment. All that is, all that was, all that ever could be. I've been here before. In a different life._

"Hello, Mystery," _she says, and smiles. She extends one hand as if to welcome me in. Like she's been expecting me._

"Long time, no see." _She laughs at that, and I smile with her. Oddly, I feel content. As if I'm coming home. Should thab bother me?_

"You probably have questions."

 _I nod. That much, at least, I am sure of._ "Have I… is this what it's like to be erased?"

"Erased?" _She laughs, a high, clear sound. Her hair is the same color as the light behind her._ "Oh Mystery. Something so tremendous and wonderful and important as you? You could never be erased, not really. Only changed."

 _Not terribly surprising, somehow._ "I don't suppose you could explain any more."

"You're a paradox, child. You always have been, in so many ways. One more level should be expected. After all, this one's been here since the very beginning. Before the beginning."

 _Again, not a real surprise. I don't fully understand what she's saying, but I'm sure I will._

"Come with me." _She turns around and steps into the bubble, passing harmlessly through the golden strands. I'm not sure I'll do the same, but between one blink and the next, I'm inside._

 _I look down first. The same crack I saw last time stretches across the floor. Is it wider? Dozens of smaller cracks fracture off it. Any golden thread that touches one disappears into the blackness. The void._

 _She points to one particular cord, a thick one that splinters and coils in on itself. I know it immediately - this is me._

"Do you remember?" _she asks, watching me as I get my bearings again._ "You watched your own creation."

 _Of course I remember._ "You were the first face I saw."

"And I'll be the last," _she adds with a laugh._ "At least, the last you'll see as you."

 _Now we were getting to it. I wait, knowing she'll explain or she won't. Unlike my last time here, I was not the one in control._

"You see, Mystery, you have touched impossibly many lives. The universe, as broken as it, cannot right itself from that level of damage. At least, not as it was." _A pause._ "Not without help."

"You need something to hold that together." _I nod down at the gaping hole beneath us._ "You need me."

" _I_ don't need anything. The rest of them… the people out there…" _A memory flashes in front of me: Clara and the Doctor, in the TARDIS whirling through space. It speaks for itself._

 _I understand what she is asking, too. This wasn't a simple favor. This time, I have no physical body to anchor me. This time, if I use up my life, there will be nothing left._

 _Without another word, I take the end of the strand of my life. It reaches up to meet my hand, ready for what needs to be done. Silently, I begin to weave this golden cord across the gap, melding it back together. The edges of my strand bleed into the others, and when I am done, my own cord is an unbroken circle, a circle much bigger than the original length should allow._

 _I glance up at her, an unspoken question in my eyes. She smiled._ "Didn't you study astrophysics? Matter cannot be created or destroyed. And you, without question, matter."

"That's not quite how that works," _I murmur, but that doesn't seem to matter now. I should be gone. I spent everything I had, and plenty I didn't._ "So it's not some ancient Time Lord engineering, then."

 _A smile._ "Ancient, yes. Farther back than even their history goes. Maybe even outside it." _Her expression becomes somewhat impish._ Perhaps no one knows at all."

 _Another smile._ "Without an anchor, you become part of me. Part of the Moment. The life, the conscience. The part of it that has seen everything and can pass judgement on all. Experience is the best and bitterest teacher."

 _Oh._

"It's far too late to put you back in the life you had," _she adds, somewhat tentatively._ "But here, you can relive the memories as often as you like. And, eventually, reexperience them from a… different point of view."

 _Another memory whisks by - a baby in a wooden cradle with a star mobile. Me?_

"After all, the world is always in need of a Mystery."

 _Again, she holds out her hand, and this time, I take it immediately. As soon as our fingers touch, I feel the power enter me and knows that someday, centuries from now and no time at all, a man with the light of the stars in his eyes and the weight of worlds in his hearts would come and steal me away again._

* * *

 **A.N: And so it ends.**

 **A few notes: The beginning text is taken straight from the first proper chapter of this story, before the timeline changed. This is, I suppose, how it would have gone.**

 **Secondly, as a few astute readers may recall, the very first chapter of Mystery Girl began in first-person italics, narrated out of Mystery's head. I'm taking "full circle" the next level.**

 **And to top it off, every one of these three stories has had the first proper chapter titled "An Unexpected Arrival." Glancing at this chapter title should yield a connection.**

 **And with my Easter eggs out of the way, an announcement: This is it. I'm done writing fanfiction. I don't think I can get any better than this, plotwise, and I'm not sure I want to. I'm happy to end here and have this be my legacy, I suppose. You probably have a good idea of how I feel based on this chapter. I will post my outline for this as the next chapter, so don't freak out, but I'm not going to be writing any new stories.**

 **So, thank you all! For supporting me, for reading, for reviewing, for laughing and crying and getting angry with me. It's been a ride and I learned a lot. Hopefully you did too. I try. And I will stay...**

 **-Forever the Optimist**


	33. Outline

**A.N: So this is the outline I used for this story. This website format can't handle bullet points or highlighting, so a lot of the structure is gone, but I thought you might be interested to see how this story changed from here to what you read. I personally love to get inside people's heads like this. Make of it what you will. Anything in parentheses means I'm referencing something (usually). Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Tentative title:** She's Back

 **Characters:** 12th Doctor and Clara, plus regenerated Mystery and eventually the Moment

 **Setting:** right before The Zygon Invasion - horrors of war still fresh

 **Beginning:** Set in dark, dingy alien space bar, probably in the future. Not for the faint of heart.

One male alien bragging to male friend about recent city destruction - hoping for a ticket to the ship Harmony and Redemption

Harmony and Redemption: intergalactic cruise liner. Minimum ticket price: 1 billion credits, plus the proven murder of multiple innocent life forms. Suites reserved for planet burners (The Husbands of River Song)

Alien assumes he's the toughest one there, is rude to waitress about it (what're you gonna do about it?)

Friend cautions him - not so loud, Madame Mys is here; points to small figure sitting at a corner table, wearing a heavy cloak - face concealed

Alien laughs, no way, etc: reputation too big for someone that small

Laser bolt, his **something** is singed, looks up to see small dark hand holding the gun, quiet warning, face still unseen

Alien asks friend who is she really, what does she want, etc. Friend has no answers

She hasn't been seen for ages, suddenly appears? "She's back"

Mystery carrying large, square sack (under table?) - **the Moment**

 **Body 1:** Could-Have-Been King adventure. Begins inside the TARDIS

 **Main theme** : divide and conquer extremely effective; people are always better off sticking with those they love.

Clara and the Doctor laughing about **last adventure** (Before the Flood?)

Clara mentions she's hungry, Doctor suggests great restaurant at the end of the universe (one end, anyway, never sure which one - Hitchhiker's Guide)

TARDIS suddenly lands - planet appears under them. Impossible, planets don't appear, etc. Doctor's never been here but heard of it

"The middle of Nowhere, at the crossroads of Coincidence and Potential"

Briefly open door and look out to see a scrub-like wasteland, no civilization in sight

Doctor explains that this is the planet of the Could-Have-Been King and her army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres. Together as a species they are called **Possibilities**

Each have their own powers

King can show victims all lost possibilities, especially painful ones, and make them extremely lifelike (only possible futures hinging on past events - can't play with the future)

Personality = Morgana. Ice cold ruler, sweet to their face, stunningly regal and gorgeous (Clara very impressed - flirting)

Tips of her hair are made of golden light

"Her? But you said king" Humans assume things too much and pronouns are overrated

Strongest powers = kingship. Not an inherited title

Neverweres plant fake memories

CAN'T change memories that already exist

Clara: "Am I going to have a head full of memories that aren't real now?" Doctor: "Oh, that's nothing new. Humans are full of fake memories, you just don't realize it. Remembering things that didn't happen, changing memories based on how you hear about things, making up memories to fill in blank spaces. Ever heard of the Silence?"

Clara: "The what?" (She definitely has)

Doctor: "Exactly."

Meanwhiles insert chunks of time between past events

Could be outside right now? Yep. Pity no windows. (Used to have one (11), wonder where I put it?)

Clara asks why they can't just insert past time where they kill them, Doctor explains causality is always preserved

The species is humanoid, though smaller and physically weaker than humans/Time Lords. They used to be Gallifreyans, but evolved differently due to time vortex exposure.

Seen in their eyes - no pupils. Instead they swirl like the Matrix

Only physical manifestation - as intensity of magic use increases, eyes spin faster

Because of physical weakness, they fear solitude and are constantly together - strength in numbers, **danger in being alone**

Physical weakness rarely matters, because enemies rarely get that close. It's not what they do to the body, it's what they do to the mind

Planet and race was locked in the Time War

Clara reasons they've landed before the Time War, Doctor says no: there is no "before the Time War" - timelocked. Shouldn't be possible

The army was an enemy of the Time Lords

Each different type is essentially their gender: Meanwhiles are male, Neverweres are female (explains female King)

 **Motive:** Shaking off Mystery's power and returning to freedom

Ulterior motive: winning/ending the Time War and destroying the Time Lords

Powers are weakest on sad/painful memories, because the brain pushes them away, shuts them out. Consequently, they work best on humiliation

Works better on Clara - the Doctor's had way more practice pushing things away

Can easily manipulate short-term memory for Clara, but only long-term for Doctor

While explaining, Doctor is fiddling with the TARDIS, trying to take off, but can't (Clara suggests they just leave)

Clara skeptical: "Is this a 'we can't leave because the, I don't know, spiralizer's broken and you're curious', or is this real?" "Real." Eyebrow. "Spiralizer?" "Shut up."

They finally decide to leave the TARDIS (no other choice) and discover the Meanwhiles have transported them to the King's throne room

Throne room is a curious mix of medieval grandeur and futuristic technology (holograms, etc.)

King welcomes them grandly if not warmly. Doctor is surprised they don't kill him immediately - no love lost for Time Lords, impressive self-control quip

They are under orders to capture but not to kill, King refuses to reveal whose orders ( **eventually revealed to be Mystery, under threat of removal of powers with the Moment)**

Doctor soon realizes they aren't acting of free will and claims they're on the same side (Clara: we are? "Yes. Ssh.")

Offers to help them get free, plays up his reputation (possibly as war hero?) in return for information on their master, etc.

In good faith, King invites them to dinner to consider the offer, discuss, yadayada

Food is utterly unrecognizable, but Doctor assures Clara they're all delicacies

"If you want good faith, let the TARDIS go" King shows them starving in dungeons - what could be - as proof of good treatment

"Just because you're not abusing us doesn't mean you're treating us well/we're not prisoners"

 **Some lost possibilities should never be found**

King tells them it's a woman with immense and unimaginable power - power of the Time Lords and beyond

While eating, King's armies are stripping the TARDIS

Meanwhile slipped in while Clara and the Doctor were getting out (added extra time) then opened it from inside

All speculated by the Doctor later - they come inside and see it dead-looking

With Time Lord tech, they'll be able to amplify their powers to end the war themselves (with destruction of Gallifrey)

Doctor wants to check on the TARDIS, promises King to help, etc. King asks Clara to stay behind

Wants to gain her sympathy, appeals to woman underdog etc.

"Clara, our civilization is as old as the ones locked in combat even now. We are not a willing part of this conflict, but have been dragged into it. Because of this, the daily lives of my people are suffering. We need help."

Don't want the Doctor - one ruler who knows of war is enough. Clara is kind, perceptive, a strong leader.

Doctor is also an enemy of their people: they would never accept him as a ruler

As a show of faith, King offers to show Clara her **best memory**

Clara is touched, but slightly suspicious. Says because she can't return the compliment (no abilities) she really doesn't belong ruling with her and goes to find the Doctor

The Doctor returns to the TARDIS against mild protest, find it empty and dark - matrix is draining (The Doctor's Wife) He immediately realizes there's been interference

 **Why** did they let them back in the TARDIS at all? TARDIS is **physically cued to the Doctor**

TARDIS looks dead and empty - clearly has been tampered with

Clara returns, can't understand what's happened

Doctor insists they hold hands to make them harder to split up

"Any time you remember something twice, don't trust either. They can't erase memories you already have, but they make you doubt them."

They've heard stories of the Doctor as a war hero, but don't know Clara at all - false memories won't be perfectly accurate

Doctor tries to take off, but the TARDIS is has land-lock (Firefly) put on it: causes explosion, sparks, jolting, etc. Clara and the Doctor lose their grip on each other

Clara finds herself running down the TARDIS corridor, bolting the door behind her. Stops, questions why, then remembers the Doctor telling her that the explosion may have released toxic gas, she needs to get away and seal it in

What about him? Brain supplies the answer: the gas is only toxic to humans

Eventually she begins to doubt and tries to circle back. The TARDIS's internal schematics have changed and closed down in defense

Clara keeps going in loops because she 'remembers' trying that corridor already

Doctor still in the control room, trying to break the hold

TARDIS can't take off: The King's powers override the Time Lord engineering (from an older Gallifreyan culture when they valued magic more than science), can't leave until the hold is broken

Possibilities using the power of the Matrix (they each have a bit of its power in their DNA) to call to the matrix in the TARDIS and drain it.

Realizes what's happening, knows that to break their magical hold, they all have to be distracted

Advantage of science - doesn't rely on any one person's capabilities

Tries to use the TARDIS to distract them any way he can (turning on the light, etc.)

Fleeting thought: _I wish Clara could see this._ Sternly reprimands himself: no, she's dead. _She's been gone for ages. Centuries, maybe. Why haven't I moved on?_

He realizes what they're trying to do

"Clara's dead? Is that what you're trying to tell me? Well, joke's on you, you can't change memories, and I remember her coming here alive."

The images become more vivid: he realizes they're trying to break him

"You think the death of one of my friends will break me? I fought in the Last Great Time War. I saw my comrades cut down, my family murdered. I watched planets burn by my hand. I heard the screams and saw the panic of mothers as their children burned to death, and I see the faces of people despising me, _blaming_ me, every time I close my eyes. And you think one more bad memory will break me?"

Images - memories - flashed through his mind: Clara dead, Clara dying, Clara broken, mangled, mauled. Over and over again.

"I have lost so many people I care about, in so many ways, and when I think about them it hurts so much I can't breathe. But _I am not broken!"_

Doctor uses his sonic to fixate on the telepathic signal and reverse it

Now instead of them implanting memories in his head, he's putting them in theirs

He sends them a barrage of his worst memories from the Time War - pain, slaughter, carnage *MAJOR BUILDUP*

They are overwhelmed - not used to dealing with painful memories - concentration is broken

Doctor is able to put up the shields to keep them out, spell is broken

Clara 'wakes up,' finds her way back to the main console room to see the Doctor has already taken off, he explains what happened

 **END:** Clara - "Is that why you keep us around? Because you're stronger with a companion?" Doctor - "I keep you because **I can't bear being alone, knowing what I'm missing**."

 **Mystery interlude:** "Just one mistake is all it will take to go down in history. Remember me for centuries." Song possibly playing? Mystery shuts it down angrily. Moment reminds her she used to love it on Earth: it reminded her how much potential there was in a single life. Now it feels more like a warning - What has she done?

 **Body 2:** Dalek adventure

After last adventure is concluded, Doctor gets a call from the Time Lords, summoning him to Gallifrey

Call is a 3D projection of Rassilon, summoning him (hijacks the TARDIS). Doctor not impressed - **Time Lords rely too much on intimidating, fancy facades**

Can't just materialize (Clara asks) - have to get through the transduction barrier

Transduction barrier: keeps Gallifrey slightly out of phase with the rest of the universe and expels anything deemed foreign

Instead of simple materialization, they will have to physically go in close enough to the planet/battle to be recognized by a TARDIS to gain access

Easy enough, except for the zillion Dalek ships around the planet

"Daleks. Well, it's been a while. I suppose I'm due."

Doctor turns on all cloaking devices, turns off all unnecessary functions (The Name of the Doctor?) - they'll just sneak through. Hopefully.

"Penny arcade might have to go." "Penny arcade?" "Yep, definitely gone." Past life joke?

Hardly get in at all when they are literally pulled in - TARDIS movement/control taken away from the Doctor

"Happened with the Judoon once, didn't it? When we still had Mystery around? (Mystery Girl)" "Yes, but this is different. Different tech." Never seen anything like it - it's a mixture of bits from species all over the universe ( **like Mystery** **\- she's been borrowing the best bits from everyone, which is how she was able to do all the things she has** )

Pulled in by Dalek ship (Doctor traces the signal), but tech is definitely not only Dalek - it's been modified

Land in the main body of the Dalek ship, instantly surrounded by Daleks - force field protects them from instant extermination

Clara asks about the plan: destroy them? Doctor says no, this isn't his fight anymore.

Doctor notices the ship has been broken and repaired, but inexpertly ( **done by Mystery** )

Daleks are also all different designs from all across time; hardly any repeats

Doctor starts questioning them about the ship, how they got the tech to pull him in, why they're all different ( **misfits of the universe** )

Demands that they explain, imitates their voice

A Dalek explains that they have been saved - all were abandoned in battle, captured, damaged, lost, etc.

Doctor:"Yeah? Then how'd you get here?"

Daleks: "THE EMPRESS. THE GREATEST OF THE DALEKS"

Doctor: "Empress? Hear that, they've got genders now. Genders in a Dalek, what will they think of next? (to Clara) Feels a bit unnatural, doesn't it?"

The Empress ( **Mystery** ) has been rounding them up and repairing them, uniting them together to rejoin the battle with the Doctor as the primary target

By destroying the Doctor, the battle will be won, no question. The Empress has given them the tools and the knowledge to do so

They will win glory for themselves, make the others regret leaving them behind

"Oh, the kind and benevolent ruler of the Daleks, gathering the lost souls of the universe" _sarcasm_ \- he'd love to meet such an extraordinary person

Already met a King today, an Empress is probably a step up

They indicate the Empress behind them, dramatic reveal, etc.

Variation on the Emperor's form(s) - immobile, huge (The Parting of the Ways)

Voice is distinctly female

Doctor wryly delighted - these are the most human Daleks he's ever seen: worship and adoration is not a Dalek trait

Neither is winning personal glory - Daleks are incredibly communal, all working together (that's their power - they don't mind a few or a lot of sacrifices if it means they win)

Doctor tries to turn them against the enemies who abandoned them, their former allies

"You are the living embodiment of hate. It's what you're built of, what you feed on. And what do you do with it?" They will destroy the Time Lords. "Ah, but that's just it, isn't it? See, the billion billion Dalek ships whizzing around that planet, they each had a choice. Every single one of you came here to fight. Those people down there, they're there to live."

Daleks will have none of it - they are determined to do the same to the Doctor

Empress unveils impressive machine that will inject the Doctor with gene suppressant

Dalek genetic makeup has removed all capacity for love, kindness, etc

They plan to turn him into a 'Dalek' and use his brilliance against his own planet

They're fully aware of the power of ingenuity and his inside knowledge

Doctor refuses, tries to fight, but Daleks threaten to shoot Clara

She pressures him not to mind: what is she against an entire planet? But he of course goes along

"Blames" Clara, she's holding him back

Doctor gets injected, at first appears to act like a Dalek

They direct him to fire at a battle TARDIS as a test, he does but "misses" and grazes a Dalek ship

Daleks celebrate, Clara is horrified and heartbroken

Value of a companion: keeps you sane, human. No one should ever be alone

Doctor: "Clara, what's the most striking thing about a Dalek?" Their unity

Can't turn on their own species

"It's a good thing you think hatred is beautiful, because believe me when I say that no one in this universe is hated more than you. Oh, but that's alright, you've still got each other. Oh wait."

Doctor opens the comm links to the other ships, showing off the Empress, watching those Daleks defend her, etc.

Other ships recognize them as an abomination to Dalek kind, open fire. These Daleks fight back to defend their Empress, battle begins

How to make a Dalek: subtract love, add hate. "If you add love for this Empress, what have you become?" *something dramatic happens* "Your own enemy."

Amid the chaos, the Doctor runs over to the Empress, pries open the casing to reveal the actual Dalek inside

As he suspected, the casing is empty - the voice is coming from a simple speaker

Doctor tries to trace the signal, but at contact with the screwdriver, it sparks and dies without a trace left behind

Whoever designed it clearly knows a thing or two about sonic screwdrivers

They get in the TARDIS and go - the skirmish is attracting fleets of battle TARDISes (sensing weakness to exploit, etc.)

Battle TARDISes: outsides made of living metal which morphs into all varieties of shields and weapons, meant to engage in combat at a moment's notice. Main weapon is time torpedos, used to freeze enemies in time and thus trap them in the time vortex

Used frequently by the CIA. Clara confused - Central Intelligence Agency? "America's got TARDISes?" "Celestial Intervention Agency"

Doctor flies up to them, they recognize him and grant him clearance to go in

Can't just land - have to get through the transduction barrier

Transduction barrier: keeps Gallifrey slightly out of phase with the rest of the universe and expels anything deemed foreign

Possible nod to his status as a war hero? "I was at Skull Moon" (Hell Bent)

While being escorted into Arcadia, the Doctor runs a detox to clear the suppressant out of his system

In analyzing the chemicals therin, the Doctor realizes it was basically harmless

No actual genetic effect, just a drug to make him more impressionable (go along with what he expected to happen) - relaxant, anesthesia, etc.

He only believed he was exploiting a weakness

The entire thing feels stage-managed, like they're being played

How did the Empress know Clara's full name?

Doctor suspects the Time Lords (throw heavy suspicion on Missy, but nothing definite)

 **Mystery interlude:**

Shoves away her microphone in disgust, speaking to the Moment, frustrated that the Doctor can't see her hand in things.

Moment comments that she played her part well (voicing the Empress)

Everything about those Daleks is completely unnatural, why doesn't he suspect?

She can't risk being more obvious, she doesn't have the power to stand against so many, nor does she want to.

Bitter about his companion speech - like she doesn't know she'd be better off.

Reluctant to use the Moment's power - dangerous, wants the Doctor to find _her_.

She asks the Moment where they are bound, she says Gallifrey (Mystery is using the Moment to keep track of him). Gallifrey is the one place Mystery can't influence - she has to trust the Doctor to use his wits to find her.

 **Body 3:** Trip to Gallifrey

They've been summoned, and so must go - Doctor suspects/hopes they'll be able to explain what's gone wrong with time

Current Gallifreyan political structure:

Rassilon currently Lord President again ("Rassilon the redeemer, Rassilon the resurrected - The End of Time Pt 2)

High Council of the Time Lords has Lord President Rassilon, six Time Lords (including Chancellor, General, and Partisan), and the Visionary

Vote on everything, method unknown

Council explains that the Moment has been stolen and accuse the Doctor of doing it

They're clearly not huge fans of his - they see him as reckless and uncontrollable

He realizes that he will do it, but it's too early in the war for him to have done it already

Explains to Clara the ramifications: (paradoxes, causal nexus ruptured, unknowable effects)

Council votes on his guilt: 7 votes, 4 for (including Rassilon), 2 against, 1 abstention

Need a 5 vote majority to take action = need more evidence/information

Rassilon wants to proceed anyway, Visionary appears and stops him

High Council charges him with finding and returning it to prove his innocence (and to control a loose cannon)

Doctor instantly suspects Missy - she's stolen it (from him) before

Also strengthens suspicions that she's Madame Miss

Asks about Missy, learns she's in jail

She returned to Gallifrey thinking she could pose as just another Time Lady, but was quickly found out and detained as a danger to society, etc.

"Years and years of abandonment, of being alone and uncared for, of not fitting in anywhere I go, and look what it's done to me." *taps on the field with her ring* "I wonder what it's done to her" = transition into….

Doctor and Clara go to visit her in jail, find out what she knows

Jail doesn't have bars, rather a force field they can get through but Missy can't - one way (keyed to her genetic makeup)

It looks as though there is no barrier

She's been sitting there waving through a window (Dear Evan Hansen)

She knows who Madame Mys truly is (and can't believe the Doctor doesn't), and won't tell them anything unless they help her escape

Missy: "It's someone you know, Doctor, I promise you that. An old friend."

"She's acting more like an enemy."

Missy: " **The line between friend and enemy is a thin one, especially where you are concerned**."

"You mean you aren't involved in this...whatever it is?" "Involved? My dear, we are all _involved_ , whether we like it or not."

Clara is against it, but the Doctor wants his suspicions confirmed/wants to know what he'll be facing

Missy taunts him: "Don't you want to know? Isn't it just killing you? I know something and you don't, how're you feeling about _that_?"

Missy gives them half of the coordinates to find Mystery as a promise of good faith

She can't tell them everything, or they'd have no reason to break her out, but they demand she tell them something

Doctor could raise the alarm at any time once she's free - he might be in trouble, but she'd be in worse

Together they break her out

Doctor uses sonic to lower the fields

Missy warns him - they'll know instantly that it's you. "Everyone else here's got way too much dignity to be caught dead with a sonic screwdriver." "Well, they don't have nearly as much fun."

Doctor leading the way back to his TARDIS, guards head them off and they have to meander

Doctor must be in front, then Missy, then Clara

Missy can shove Clara behind her? Clara means nothing to her

Clara is captured as they run and detained

Doctor wants to go back for her, but Missy drags him on - no good to anyone if he's captured too

Doctor closes and seals a door between them to cut off the guards; he yells promises to Clara that he'll find her and save her

Time Lords have little respect for humans - shut her away with near-immediate transport into Outsider life

Outsiders were Gallifreyans living outside the capital. Their lifestyles were very primitive - wear animal skins, use bows/spears to hunt

Dig at humanity by the Time Lords - Clara will fit in better here (closer to life on Earth)

Doctor and Missy go through the Cloisters

"They say people go mad in here." "Well, it's a bit late for us, isn't it?"

Can constantly hear shrieks and various other unnerving noises

Cloister Wraiths (Sliders) are highly agitated

Cloister wraiths are manifestations of dead Time Lords, meant to guard the databanks of the Matrix. They ring the bells whenever Gallifrey is in danger

They generally appear to be screaming, their faces flicker

They were rumored to once have helped the Doctor find a passageway out…? (during his Time Academy days - Hell Bent)

No one knows much about them, they've just always been there

 **Problem with living so long - you forget where you started** (nod to Mystery)

One Wraith has the Doctor's face - it is his manifestation after his own death

It confronts the pair, they aren't sure what it will do, then they recognize it as him

"Well, would you look at that…" Missy said softly. "Blimey, you didn't age well, did you?"

It speaks to the Doctor, beginning to explain the danger time is in

Says **something profound** about being afraid, then cut to Clara

Clara pacing her cell, trying to find a way out

She can hear a voice ticking down until she is automatically transported

Needs time to power up (guards explain)

Asking herself what the Doctor would do. "Plan, plan, I need a plan. A big, brilliant, Doctor-y plan." Break "So what's the plan?"

Puts hands on her hips to yell at the countdown, feels the key in her pocket. "The Doctor always uses what he has."

She uses the TARDIS key to summon the TARDIS (Father's Day)

Not sure it's going to work at first, begging the TARDIS

The Doctor and Missy are in the Cloisters, finishing conversation with the Wraith, when the TARDIS materializes around them

"Who's saving who exactly?"

Doctor begins to panic: Cloister fibre-optic cables will begin to archive the TARDIS

It's so ancient the Matrix will recognize it as a museum piece

Also realized that the transport chamber must transport something - if Clara/nothing's inside, it will create a vacuum and blow the place apart. "That's why it's TARDIS-proof." (He's added some special bits over the years)

They will have to time it within a few seconds of Clara leaving so they don't hit her past self but also don't miss the transport

Doctor will hijack the transport to get them out of Gallifrey's atmosphere, but something still has to go to the Outsider destination so there isn't a vacuum on that side

They both look at Missy. "You have got to be kidding me."

Missy gets left behind, they continue on, determined to clear the Doctor's name and find the culprit, etc.

Just for that, she refuses to give any more information, just taunts him

A little afraid - cold, even for her

 **Mystery interlude:** "They're coming. I know it. They have to be." The Moment reminds her she is running out of time - the whole of reality is running out of time. This could be a very costly reunion. Mystery says whatever it takes. "Come, let's go and meet our guests."

 **Body 4:** At Mystery's **base**

"Demons run when a good man goes to war" - the Doctor is expecting a fight

Base is a mix of the best parts of technology from all over the galaxy

Doctor and Clara land in the base, Doctor calls out "Miss, you've made me very cross."

Voice replies, "I know I look young, Doctor, but that's no reason to treat me like a child."

Voice is unfamiliar to either of them

A door opens across the room to reveal Mystery - neither of them recognize her or know at all who she is

"Ah, the legendary Madame Miss. I've always wanted to meet you." "You already have."

She looks no older than 14. Short, dark-skinned, with a mass of unruly black curls streaked with gold. Eyes are matching gold.

Not beautiful - chin a bit too strong, eyes a bit too big - but definitely striking and memorable

Doctor checks her out with the sonic sunglasses, she in return pulls out a **sonic spyglass** and looks him over

"Sonic spyglass, who's got a sonic spyglass?" "Well, who's got sonic sunglasses? What's wrong with a screwdriver?"

She modified it from the first telescope she ever bought herself on Earth

Mystery invites them in, very hospitable, acting like nothing is wrong. Trying to make it civil, normal

Has selection of refreshments from all over the galaxy

 **Must include melons, berries, and lemons** (Clara takes lemons, Doctor takes nothing - all business)

Doctor asks who she is: "Nobody's actually called Madame, unless you had really horrible parents." Something in her face tightened. "I've been called so many things over the years."

Lists names: Befriender of the Friendless, Deceiver of Nations, She of the Hidden Smile, Earthwalker, Soulsinger, Storyteller, Hurricane, Meddler, sometimes Doctor. Elizabeth, once.

"I fit with the misfits. I am order in chaos and chaos in order. No one knows what to think of me, what to do with me, and so they call me what I am: a Mystery."

Doctor confused - Madame Miss? She explains with no little irritation that people are constantly spelling it wrong: it's Madame Mys

And the penny drops. The Doctor has to then explain how she isn't dead

Clara still believes she died at the Shadow Proclamation, Doctor never told her otherwise because he never thought they'd find her again

He tells her he tried looking for her, but had no idea where to even begin

"How long has it been?" "A century, maybe two. I lose track." "And after all that time, you still remembered me." "Well, I tried not to. Remembering hurts." Her tone was level, light. "But it just wasn't working, and I knew I wasn't going to get any peace until I found you."

"So you regenerated, then." "Obviously." "How was that?" She considered. "Unexpected."

Once she gained a new body, it was impossible to make a new human life: no identity, paperwork, citizenship, etc. She looks too young to start a family or find a job and she refused to stay in primary school for ages after she'd lived nearly a century. She didn't know if she'd age and didn't stick around to find out

"What was I supposed to do, go to school with my grandchildren?" "Similar things have happened" (River and the Ponds)

Doctor comments how different she is, she shoots right back. "Oh, and what about you? All Scottish and grey?" Clearly a lot has happened since they last saw each other

Mystery begins to explain all that she's been doing as the Doctor pieces it together

Traveling, wandering, sightseeing, stepping in to help where she can. "Didn't always work out like I planned. No good deed goes unpunished (Wicked)."

"People have written stories about me, you know. All over the galaxy. Nice, neat tales where good always conquers equal." She grinned wryly. "I don't always win."

No guarantee of a happy ending in real life - somebody should always come out happy

 **Stealing the Moment:** Most Time Lord security is geared towards high-tech theft

Moment was locked in the Time Vaults, in the Omega Arsenal, on a plinth

Cameras, sensors, etc. meant for very high-speed (TARDIS) movement

Using the Moment to control the Possibilities, collecting lost Daleks

Alluded-to adventures: she was there in the Gamma Forests (A Good Man Goes to War), she celebrated New Years with the long-necked people (and found Clara's sunglasses) (Under the Lake)

The only way to find the Doctor is to get him to find you - she needed to get his attention without getting herself killed

"Squeaky wheel gets the grease, isn't that what they say?" "I've always hated that saying. You're basically telling people to be bleaters all the time."

"Doctor, I know I'm only one of many to you, but the two of you are my everything."

She's been playing out the same timelines over and over - tried to use the Moment's power to make things better for others, but got bored (UNDERTALE)

No more variety, nothing ever changes

She got curious: what would happen if?

No other methods of finding the Doctor had worked - create a problem for him to solve

Also why she's acquired such a huge reputation but the Doctor's never heard of her

"I was so scared, Doctor. And so alone. I waited and waited. But nobody came."

Last time they met, she killed him. This is a reset. Deliberately unclear on how many resets there have been.

She is desperately lonely and needs true acceptance

"I have seen the stars and found them wanting, because I saw them alone."

She doesn't have anyone she matters to now - everyone she loved no longer knows her, everyone she meets knows something isn't quite right (species mix) and so is afraid or in awe

"I'm always in a crowd, Doctor, and I'm always by myself. There's a difference between alone and lonely."

People have always feared what they can't understand

She wanted to get back to the one people who fully understood her and who knew what it was like to live outside of time

"I got addicted to mattering to people" (Waitress)

"Needing people, that's very human," the Doctor observed. Mystery raised an eyebrow. "Really? I was thinking I got it from you."

The Doctor calls her bluff: you've got us here in your power, at your mercy. Your turn.

"Don't plan the plan if you can't follow through (Dr. Horrible), that's what I always say. Do I say that?" He turned to Clara, who only shrugged. "Well, someone says that."

She hesitates, and he gets angry

She's let bitterness and resentment get before love and friendship

The universe is not a kind place to anyone. Any idiot with half a brain could spend their whole life crying and still have more to cry about (Dr. Horrible), but you have to be better than that because people need you to be

Living means harm. It's impossible to do anything without being at risk for pain and disaster. The wisdom is knowing if what you're doing is worth it (Welcome to Night Vale)

Mystery says it's not fair - none of her life was in her control, etc. The Doctor says he understands, and she breaks down

Losing someone is the story of everyone (Heaven Sent) It doesn't make her special, doesn't make her grief any more potent than anyone else's - but it still hurts

Losing someone = being left by someone, whether they mean to or not

Definite Moment commentary all in here

The Doctor asks Mystery/the Moment what's happening to time - knows it's nothing good

The Time War is continuing, and time is fracturing and unraveling. Because Mystery has the Moment, the War Doctor can't use it to stop the Time War, and so would not have kept it, and so Missy couldn't have stolen it from the Doctor, etcetera, etcetera, and so forth = Mystery will never have been born

"You've essentially gone back and killed your grandfather" Stolen?

Mystery knew all this from the beginning - not in exact detail, but the essentials - but she underestimated the size of the war and the effects thereof

Each galaxy exists in the center of its own observable universe, and that's all it has the power to relate itself to, all it believes it can affect - just like people

Everyone underestimates the effects of war in the end

The fractures are caused not just by the war and this last paradox she's created, but by all of her life: **she is a space-time event that was never meant to exist** , and her very being frays at the edges of time (Moment explains)

She knows too that she is utterly linked to this - always has been, always will be - and has prepared a solution: erasing herself from existence

She will never have existed = no memories of her will exist - they never happened

She's seen it coming - her reputation is spreading, and no one survives for long with reknown that large

She has been studying up on the Doctor's companions, and has recognized a pattern: each in turn becomes the Doctor by making a big decision he would typically make. She wants her reputation to be that of someone who could step up and do what is needed

Legacies live on through stories, and now hers can't be told - tragic, isn't it?

Maybe not all stories are worth telling, but hers was - to the Doctor, at least. Perhaps that's all that matters: we tell the stories that stay with us

The Doctor recognizes it's needed, though isn't happy about it

"Traveling in time, you start to think that endings are never really permanent, that people you lose can always come back somehow. I forget that's not always the case." (Or even common)

He once had to fight to keep his memories of her when he thought she had died at the Shadow Proclamation- broke several intergalactic laws (Mystery Girl). Now he's giving them up voluntarily

Clara argues against it - there has to be another way. Mystery is just as precious as anything else in the universe

"The way you fight tooth and nail to create an identity out of something most people can't even comprehend. The way you put way too much sugar in your tea. The way your laugh interrupts your sentence like you just can't wait any longer to be happy, and the smile grows out of the shape of your words. Look, you still do it!"

So many new little things in this regeneration they won't ever get to know, and so many old little things they won't get to remember.

Mystery is decided, though, and the Doctor encourages her

She wanted a happy ending, but happy endings don't just happen by happenstance (Something Rotten), not in real life - you have to go make them happen

 **END:**

Doctor and Clara back in the TARDIS, trying to figure out what's happened

Doctor's (seemingly) happily fiddling away with the TARDIS when Clara comes in, clearly with something on her mind. He rambles about things, finally says "You know, I can probably talk longer than your entire lifespan, so if you've got something to say, might as well say it"

"Do you feel like something's happened? Something big and important?"

Clara says it feels like an ending. The Doctor says it's definitely not a beginning, everything he does started long ago

"We begin at the end" (Exit Wounds - Torchwood)

Endings are where the fun truly starts: what's happened is over, and the rest is up to you

 **EPILOGUE:** Mystery still in the Moment (never left, though she blacked out when her body was erased)

Name: An Unexpected Departure

Her consciousness still exists (very abstract), 'walking' through familiar darkness, like walking through a house you've lived in all your life with the lights off while everyone is asleep

Glances down, sees hand glowing with regeneration energy. "It's started."

Eventually she sees a familiar golden light and heads toward it

Recognizes it as the outside of the bubble that is the Moment's consciousness

The Moment is waiting outside to greet her

Mystery is mildly (nothing really troubles her about this - that's not the environment) confused - if she's been completely erased, how can she still be feeling anything?

"Erased? Something so tremendous and wonderful and important as you? You could never be erased, not really. Only changed."

Mystery has always been a paradox, a completely impossible thing, born by her own hand. Another layer should hardly be surprising - it's been there since the very beginning ( **in the form of the Moment** )

The Moment invites her into the bubble, shows her what's happening: time is unraveling, and Mystery could be the cord that binds it all together

She can either give up her eternity to weave time together or choose oblivion and let time fall apart completely

Time is already beginning to lose meaning - the Moment shows her

The Moment offers to let her come in, Mystery understands what that would mean: she lacks a physical body to anchor her to reality and so would become a part of the Moment forever - she provides the living, thinking consciousness

The Moment can't change things back to how they were, but she can allow her to relive the memories over and over again… and eventually see them from a different point of view

"The universe is always in need of Mystery."

She wanted a happy ending, even if not for her. Now no one will get one - there will be no endings at all

Mystery: "Not some ancient Time Lord engineering, then."

Moment: "Ancient, yes. Farther back than even their history goes. Maybe even outside it. Perhaps no one knows at all."

She steps into the bubble, accepting what it means, and joins the thread of her timeline into one unbroken circle to hold the golden world together

As soon as it is joined, she feels the power enter her and knows that someday, centuries from now and no time at all, a man with the light of the stars in his eyes and the weight of worlds in his hearts would come and steal her away again


End file.
